Emilia hesitated for a moment, her hand trembling as she softly nudged Christopher. Her heart raced in her chest, pounding with uncertainty. She wasn't sure if she should wake him. Maybe she should have just walked past and ignore him. "Mr Hayden..." she whispered, her voice barely audible. Christopher's eyes fluttered open, and he shifted uncomfortably in the chair. Confusion clouded his gaze as he focused on Emilia, trying to make sense of the situation. His disheveled appearance spoke of a restless night. Emilia's words stumbled out, her voice filled with nerves. "This surely is not the most comfortable place to sleep. I did make breakfast if you wish for it, but if not, perhaps you should move to bed? It'll be healthier for your back," she mumbled, her words barely reaching his ears.
Suddenly, a wave of nausea washed over Christopher, and his face turned into a sickly shade of green. In a desperate search for relief, he reached for the ice bucket where he had his scotch the night before, only to retch and vomit violently. Emilia instinctively took a step back, her stomach turning at the acrid stench that filled the air. She fought to maintain her composure, averting her gaze to the ceiling.
"Maybe breakfast wasn't the best idea," Emilia muttered to herself, her voice laced with a tinge of regret.
Christopher's state was far from graceful or dignified, his body weakened and trembling. Not wanting to make his embarrassment any worse, Emilia quietly retrieved the empty bottle and glass, making her way to the kitchen.
There, she grabbed a napkin and soaked it in cold water
She returned to the living room, approaching Christopher with cautious steps. He slumped back in the chair. Having emptied his stomach, his complexion was pallid and a thin sheen of sweat adorned his forehead. His eyes were shut close again.
Emilia's heart ached for him, compassion welling up inside her. Something was clearly amiss in his life for him to get himself into such a wretched state two nights in a row.
Determined to offer solace, she gently reached out and used the damp napkin to wipe away the sweaty pearls off his forehead.
In that moment, his eyes shot open, surprise and disbelief flickering across his features as he grabbed her hand defensively.
"What are you doing?" Christopher asked, his tone sharp.
"I..." Emilia stammered, her voice quivering with nervousness. "I was trying to help."
Christopher's gaze softened as realisation slowly dawned upon him. He released her hand, as he slowly comprehended the situation.
"Thank you, Emilia," he said, gratefully accepting the napkin and wiping his face. He avoided looking at her due to embarrassment. Emilia reached for the bucket, trying to hide her disgust, but Christopher gently caught her wrist mid-air, stopping her. "As much as I appreciate your help, I will tidy up after myself."
"It is not a trouble, Mr Hayden." Emilia smiled at him with reassurance. Christopher furrowed his brows as he studied her. He placed the napkin to the side and stood up, his steps showing some steadiness despite the spinning sensation in his head. He grabbed the bucket and disappeared into one of the ground floor corridors. Emilia remained in the living room, feeling a bit awkward. Perhaps she had overstepped by trying to be helpful.
She let out a sigh and closed her eyes, feeling a wave of nervousness. She was trying to help and at what cost. Christopher returned to the living room, with wet stains around his collar, and water dripping from his face and hair. It was evident that he had just dunked his head in water, likely to try to wash off the hangover away.
He averted his gaze, avoiding eye contact with Emilia, as he settled back into his previous spot.
"Before you attempt to eat your breakfast, I highly recommend this," Emilia offered, picking up a glass of water and the tablets that she had prepared.
"What is it?" Christopher inquired.
"Aspirin and peppermint. Peppermint should help with nausea and an upset stomach," Emilia explained.
"Thank you," Christopher said, taking the pills and swallowing them in one go. It startled Emilia to realise that he trusted her word in such a matter.
"Do you need anything else, Mr Hayden?" Emilia asked quietly.
"No, Emilia. I..." Christopher stuttered, struggling to express himself. "I am truly sorry. I cannot put into words how sorry I am that you witnessed this."
"It is human to make mistakes. It is human to be sick. I'm not scared or put off by what is inherently human," Emilia assured him.
"You're too kind." Christopher's statement made Emilia fall silent.
"Perhaps. My mum always told me that in a world filled with many smart people, one should always try to be kind. There's never enough of kind people in the world. There's never enough kindness in the world." Emilia moved the tray with the breakfast closer to Christopher. "It might do you good if you try to eat some breakfast."
"Has Bernadette started her shift already?" Christopher asked.
"No, I've made it," Emilia revealed.
"How did you know what I like?" Christopher was genuinely curious, looking back at her, almost forgetting his shame.
"Mr Cosby shared your usual routine with me a few months ago. And I have watched as Bernadette has prepared breakfast for you in the past few weeks," Emilia explained.
"Thank you. Would you like to join me?" Christopher extended an invitation, a glimmer of gratitude in his eyes.
"I-…" Emilia played with the idea of having breakfast with Christopher but she was interrupted by Patrick striding into the room.
"Good morning, sir. Up and early, I see. That's fantastic. A busy day ahead!" Patrick's enthusiasm overshadowed Emilia's attempt at speaking a word.
"Have a good day, Mr Hayden. Good morning, Mr Cosby." Emilia bowed her head and rushed away.
"Good morning, Dr Vincent." Patrick mumbled towards her on her way out.
Emilia picked the bag with her suit and run up the wooden staircase towards her room.
She opened the heavy curtains once in the room, looking at a sunny day outside. The garden looked green and in full bloom. And the sculpture shimmered brightly.