Listening to the Heart

Chapter 21

A/N: The image above does not belong to me. It belongs to the person who uploaded it on the internet.

Cooheart's POV

The pain pill that I took made me drowsy and soon I fell asleep something like a half hour after breakfast.

I didn't awaken until noontime when my mom knocked on my door to ask if I wanted to have lunch brought to my room.

"No, mom, thanks," I said, "I'd rather get out of bed and walk to the dining room."

"That's fine, son," she said, "here, let me help you get to the dining room."

As usual Rose served one of the best lunches I've had since my hospital stay.

I always liked the combination of sweet and salty in any dish. Rose had made a salad of sweet tiny cut up pear pieces and tiny cut up prosciutto pieces and generously sprinkled them with salty blue cheese which she served on naan flatbread which she herself had baked.

I found myself reaching for a second serving.

"I'm glad to see that your appetite has returned," my mom said happily, "thanks to Rose, of course, for this tasty lunch."

My mom's phone started to ring as I was gobbling up the last few bites of my second serving of the salad on naan.

"Oh, yes, this is she," I heard my mom say on her phone, "yes, tomorrow, Saturday would be a good day for you to come."

A brief pause, then, "... nine o'clock would be perfect. See you tomorrow, thanks."

She then turned to me.

"The hospital-appointed physical therapist is coming to see you tomorrow," she announced, "he will be evaluating what kind of exercises and training you will need to get you back on your feet much faster."

"Who is paying for his services?" I asked.

"I will be taking it out of your allowance," my mom replied.

Her face had taken on a deadpan expression, whereas I was looking at her with my eyebrows lifted so high that I felt they were touching my hairline.

"Joke of the day," she announced and I visibly relaxed, "your insurance will cover it, silly goose."

I did not want to go back to bed after lunch. I decided to walk over to the living room to watch anything on TV. I browsed through the TV guide.

I came upon a channel where an ongoing drama was already playing. It must have been already halfway through the story line.

I was reaching out for the box of tissues on the coffee table when my phone rang.

It was Title.

"Are you home now?" I asked Title excitedly.

"Yes," he replied, "but wait, are you coming down with the colds? Why are you sniffling?"

I didn't answer right away. I was embarrassed to tell him that I got carried away by the drama that I had been watching on TV.

"No, it's just some kind of nasal allergy," I lied.

"Oh, okay, but be careful. Allergies can lower your immune system."

"I'll try," I said, just to humor him.

"The hospital will be sending me a physical therapist to evaluate me," Title said.

"When is he coming to see you?" I asked.

"Tomorrow after lunch," he replied.

"Mine is coming to see me tomorrow morning around nine," I informed Title.

"My right side still feels a little sore," Title said, "I might ask my doctor to prescribe me a stronger pain pill. The one I'm currently taking is not taking the pain completely away."

"I'm sorry that your injuries were more serious than mine," I said, feeling truly sorry for Title.

"Don't feel sad, sweetheart," Title said.

The sweetheart bit made my heart do a cartwheel.

"We will both recover quickly and then we will go back to River Kwai and enjoy the scenery which we never got to do because of the heavy rain," he said.

"Yes," I replied, although I wasn't ready to even think about going on a drive with him again.

"Sweetheart," I heard him say. There it was again. My heart did another cartwheel.

"The pain pill I took is making me drowsy," he said, "I will take a nap for now and then I will call you when I wake up, is that okay?"

"Of course," I replied, "have you had your lunch yet?"

"At the hospital, yes, but I didn't eat much of it. Maybe when I wake up I will ask my mom to make me a proper meal."

For a brief second there, I got envious of Title. His mom was a very good cook while my mom knew nothing about cooking. No shade to my mom, though. She more than made up for it in many other ways. She was a very skilled businesswoman and she more than provided for my needs. Her presents on special occasions like birthdays or holidays tended to be extravagant but I wasn't complaining.

"What were you thinking of asking your mom to cook?" I asked, still feeling a bit envious.

"I was thinking of asking her to make some honey garlic shrimp," he replied, "actually I know how to make it myself cause she taught me but I'm not yet well enough to cook for myself."

Damn, that made me feel even more envious and inadequate. Title seemed to have inherited his mom's culinary abilities and just like my mom, I knew nothing, zero, zip, zilch, nada, about the culinary arts.

The problem was I was such a foodie and I had to rely on other people to provide me the food that I liked to eat. Oh my god, Title was just the right guy for me.

"Cooheart?"

I jerked back to attention. I didn't realized that I had spaced out for a brief moment.

"Y...yes, yes," I replied hurriedly, "go take your nap."

"Okay, then, talk to you later, love you."

"I love you, too," I said quickly before he could cut the call.

"What did you say?"

Shit, there was no turning back. I had said it. I wasn't taking it back.

Or was I?

"You heard nothing," I replied and tapped on the red X on my screen and put my phone down on the couch beside me, my heart speeding like a bullet train again.

I wasn't surprised at all when my phone started ringing with Title's ringtone.

I slowly lifted it, looking at the screen with so much indecision.

Finally, before it could go to voicemail, I swiped the screen.

I wasn't able to say a word. I heard him sobbing uncontrollably on the phone.