"Ohh, I didn't know the bed had strategic locations," he said innocently though I felt attacked by his words.
"I am sorry for putting you under this stress, I wanted to come out there to the living room but my legs will not permit me do so, it weighs like I had tones of bricks attacked to it," I confessed, my voice filled with pain.
"I am sorry about that, you should never have gone through this pain if I did not foolishly withheld your card," he blamed himself.
I felt guilty because a very rich man sat on my half broken bed apologizing to a pauper like me.
"No, this has nothing to do with you, I was just in a stupid blind rage. I belief I deserve what I ended up with, a semi-broken leg and nothing more; maybe death would have been a better punishment for my blind rage..." I did not finish my whole sentence, I was abruptly caught short with the rest of the words clutched to my throat.
