The Russian Next Door

CHAPTER 25 - Bed rest. Proving him wrong

I wake up. My throat is sore and my mouth dry. I feel like I ate sand and I can barely swallow. I think my fever has subsided, but I still feel very hot. Especially from behind. I try to turn around, but a hand strapped around my belly pulls me towards the source of the heat, and then I hear his voice, next to my ear:

'Shhh, Roza. It's okay. I'm here.' And then he starts humming the most beautiful melody I have ever heard. He is pulling me so hard towards him and it feels like our skins are going to melt into each other. I lose myself into his lullaby and I drift away.

The next time I wake up is because he is trying to pull his hand away from under my head slowly. I turn around and face him. He looks so sleepy. Cloudy eyes, his whole hair disheveled and his face has pillow marks on it. This view warms my chest to its core.

'Sorry I woke you up.'

'It's okay. I was actually awake for a while' I lie.

Then I get up, to sit straight.

'You might not want to...' But the damage is already done. The covers fell and I find myself topless in front of him. '...do that' he finishes. Then, his eyes glance fast down and then back up. Shit! I cover myself up.

'Oh my God.' I say as my cheeks turn pink.

'I'm sorry for that, but I had to find a way to keep you warm.' he says scratching his neck. I am too shocked to speak. I nod in response. 'Take this.' he hands me my tank top and I put it on. This thought crosses my mind: I have been in the same bed with him, naked. Naked! It is the second time I wake up into his bed without remembering how I got there. How do I keep getting into this kind of situations?

I get out of the bed.

'What are you doing?'

'I'm, um, I guess that I am going home. I troubled you enough. Again. Thank you.'

'Rose, get back into the bed.'

'No, really. My fever is gone. I feel better now and I should go.'

He rose up and crossed his arms. 'Rose. Back to bed. Now.' I complied.

'You are so bossy, you know?'

He smiled. 'Wait here.'

Later, he brought me tea. Mint tea with lemons and lots of honey for my throat. And soup. He made me chicken soup, just like my mother would make when I was little. Man, I really missed those days, when she really seemed to care about me.

Doctor Belikov assigned me to at least three days of bed rest. He said that the symptoms could come back worse if I didn't take care. He even took some free days from work so that he could supervise me. And I swear to God that those three days were the most boring days of my life. The fact that Dimitri wasn't coming into the room except for the times he was bringing me food or something didn't help at all. He said that I should rest, and I couldn't be bothered. I got so bored that I started reading one of his cowboy books that I found on the nightstand. I won't lie, the book was really interesting. And I could now understand better why he enjoyed them.

After those three days of vegetating in his bed, I was finally allowed to get back to my place.

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The morning after my release, I was waiting for Dimitri to get out of his apartment for our morning run. I wasn't going to give up on that. He was so shook to see me standing there.

'What are you doing here?'

'Waiting for you, it seems. You are two minutes late, comrade.' I said with a disappointed tone.

'You are not going anywhere.'

'Why not?'

'Because you still need recovery from-'

'No, I don't.' I cut him off. 'Look, I didn't have a near-death experience or something like this. I just got a little sick. And I was in bed for three days, which is more than enough.' He frowned. 'You know, I can run on my own as well. I don't have to ask for your permission. So it is totally your choice.'

I swear I saw him roll his eyes. 'Fine, let's go. But take it easy, okay?'

I so didn't take it easy that day. But it was totally worth it. I was with only five seconds behind from the last time I pulled out when I lastly ran. And that little thing made my day.

On our way back, I told him: 'I am officially asking for three days in addition to our deal. You made me sit in bed.'

'Of course. You can ask for as many days as you need.'

'Nope, comrade. A deal is a deal. I said I'd do it in a month. It is getting done in a month.'

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Almost another two weeks passed with the same schedule as the other previous two. It was the second of December. The penultimate day from our deal. Yesterday, as I was running on myself, I finished my 10 km in 32 minutes and 15 seconds. So I was very sure that I could do it again today. Of course, I knew I already beat his record. But I had to prove it to him as well. I couldn't wait to see his smug face drop.

After the run this morning, I told him:

'So, where is my kiss?'

'What kiss?'

'The one you owe me.'

'For what?'

'For beating your time, of course. You doubted me, and I proved you wrong. Has temporary amnesia come to visit you today or something?'

'But you didn't.'

He was fucking with me, I was sure.

'Give that to me.' I took the chronometer from him and saw: 32 minutes and 17 seconds. I was so pissed that I left. 'See you tomorrow. I still have a day left.'

On the third of December, I ran like hell. I even imagined that behind me was a maniac chasing me with a knife. And it worked. Because my time was 32 minutes and 10 seconds. Ha! A six seconds difference. I practically threw the chronometer at him.

'See? I did it. And it didn't take me three months.'

'Congratulations, Rose.' He seemed sincerely happy for me. 'So, where is it going to be?'

'What?'

'The kiss.'

'I don't want it.' He had a confused expression. 'I won't make you kiss me if you don't really want to, comrade. And anyway, proving you wrong was so much satisfying.' I played the I-don't-care card. But deep down I wished that he would tell me that he wanted to kiss me. But he didn't.