The trip to the hospital is awkward. The doctor shoots me accusatory looks and reprimands me.
"You shouldn't bite so hard if you are playing," he said grimly. Sebastian smirks on the side, turning his face away. I sit back, confused by what the doctor is telling me, wondering what that meant.
"Pl…" my words are cut off by the sharp reprimand of the doctor.
"I know kids these days like to be innovative with their sex-life, but it shouldn't bring you to the hospital." I lurched back in horror as I processed his words. "Your boyfriend was lucky that the skin didn't break. He would have to take some supplementary shots otherwise," the man said.
I sat, astonished at the number of assumptions the old man had made in the few sentences he had spoken and looked towards Sebastian for help. I was infuriated to see him snicker at my expense. I looked away, hoping the medication stings him a little bit, first for lying and second for laughing at my humiliation.
.
I sit in the car, unsure of how to approach the topic when Sebastian speaks up and solves the problem for me.
"Let's talk over lunch. I have made you wait long enough," he said, placing his hand lightly on mine to pat. I looked at his hand and thought nothing of it. I quite enjoyed the heat of his hand, and this way, I could ensure that he had been properly treated and was not in pain. He drove the car silently until he spoke up, feeling uncomfortable, I presumed.
"We are going to a vegan restaurant," the declaration came.
"Thank you for noticing," I politely told him. It was a declaration that meant he knew exactly how affected by the kidnapping I was. His choice of restaurant showed that he knew a lot.
"I hate meat, too." I looked at him in surprise, knowing that he was making conversation to make me feel more comfortable about the situation. His face held a slight smile which gave away his trick.
Indeed, he was very handsome. His green eyes shined with the light of his smile, the wind in his hair made him look even more dashing. I stared at him for a while before I spoke up.
"How much do you know about me?" I asked surreptitiously.
"I asked for someone to give me a file about you when you started working as my translator I knew who you were and your glowing credentials since then. I didn't want to bring it up because I knew how uncomfortable you would be to find out that I knew of your past. You seemed disturbed when the medical practitioner in the killing machine case asked you about your time in the city."
"You heard that?" I squeaked, even more distressed.
"I didn't like how condescending he sounded, and it made you uncomfortable, so I pretended to not hear." He shrugged.
"I am embarrassed that you found out," I admitted in a low voice, hoping he would not be able to hear. But my voice was loud enough to catch.
"Why should you be embarrassed about what someone else did to you? You had no choice in the whole thing." His statement was final, but I felt a deep pain wretch inside me.
"I did things that… that still haunt me." There was silence in the car.
"You are the victim, not the perpetrator. You went through hell to be sitting here, right now, and you were coerced into doing whatever it is that haunts you. You had no other choice but to succumb."
"I did. I chose to survive. I had a choice."
"You had a finite number of choices, and we as a species are equipped to adapt and want to survive, whatever the cost. It was the circumstance you were in and not you." His words gave me some comfort. But I still felt guilt wretch inside me.
"Please see a specialist. I am not good with words, and therapy is not my choice of stream. I may know a little about it, but under no circumstances will I play with your future and sanity. If you need help, I will refer you to a psychiatrist who can help you recover from this. You deserve to live a peaceful life. You no longer need to feel guilt or fear for your life. It is okay to survive and it is okay to be in pain. I will give you whatever help you desire. You won't be alone."
'You won't be alone.' Tears rolled down my cheeks as the words registered.
Not alone? I had long forgotten how that felt. I really wanted to not be alone any longer. How could I do that?
He left me alone as I sniffled and cried my eyes out. He didn't bother to look at me, giving me the space I needed. It would have been uncomfortable if he had tried to comfort me in a conventional way. However, his silent support gave me something to look forward to. I felt a new hope spark in me. A life without loneliness. What would that be like?
"I will go," I told him, my intentions firm. "I want to be better." He nodded his head.
His phone rang after a few moments of silence. He connected it to his Bluetooth set and answered it.
"Sebastian Butler speaking."
"You found it? Okay, I will come in a bit."
He hung up the phone and glanced at me.
"I will drop you home and then go to the crime scene. It is an emergency case, and the killer is on the run. I will grab dinner with you, okay?" I sat stoically, mulling over my options.
"I don't want to be alone." My voice was warm. "Can't I be there?"
"You can be there, but the scene is a mess from what I have been told. You will not go in. You will have to sit outside and wait for me. I don't want you in there."
"What do I need to do to go in there?" I asked, suddenly feeling the urge to go in and see what I was up against. What would it be like to observe him solve the crime in real-time?
"Be my assistant," he said jokingly.
"Okay," I said suddenly. "If I can go in." He looked at me, stunned.
"No, Evie. It was a joke."
"No. It wasn't. Not to me. I will be your assistant, for today." He sighed.
"You can't just be my temporary assistant. I don't want to push this case on you, please."
But I was stubborn. He had pulled into the parking lot of an apartment and a couple of policemen were running out of the building, their hands on their mouth. One of them crouched over and puked their guts out. I stared, blinking as others followed suit.
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