“We have to leave in an hour. For the hotel.” My foot stops rapping on the marble floor midway, and I look at Ahsan.
“I thought I canceled all meetings for today?”
“Does signing a fifty million contract count?” I purse my lips.
“You should go. I don’t see her waking up anytime soon.” I look back at the doctor, bent over Mansha, taking her blood pressure.
“It’s been an hour since the operation was over. She’s supposed to wake up by now.” I bite out.
He unwraps the cuff from around her arm. “The anesthetic has worn off. It’s a good thing she hasn’t woken up yet though, more time for her body to recover.”
I walk over to the bed, eyeing her limp form. Zero movement. “Didn’t you say she’s at risk of having a postoperative hemorrhage if she doesn’t wake up?”
Dr. Asif gets up and grabs the thermometer. He puts it in her mouth, and we all just wait in silence for a minute before it beeps. She doesn’t have a temperature. Dr. Asif let’s out a relieved sigh.
“I would’ve been worried if she still had a fever. And her blood pressure and heart rate are normal as well. She’ll probably wake up in the next hour.”
“And if she doesn’t?”
“Then she’s probably in a comma and one of her organs are bleeding.” I grip the bed post tightly. “We’ll have to take her to the hospital then, but for now there’s hope that she wakes up.” Dr. Asif sighs. “If nothing, you should allow me to take her to the hospital right now. We should’ve gone there in the first place.”
I glance at Mansha, lying on her stomach, eyes shut stubbornly. Is letting her die of internal bleeding more dangerous then taking her to a hospital and putting her at risk of being attacked again?
Ahsan reads my thoughts. “We can maximize security there. You have six guards standing around the house for her here, we can move them there.”
“This is a house. We know who should come and go here and who looks suspicious. You guys are talking about a whole ass hospital where the doctor or even a nurse can kill her with the ‘wrong’ tablet.” I point out bitterly.
“You’re still not going to tell me why she’s under threat?”
“Have I ever before?”
“Before none of them were at risk of going into a comma.”
“I suppose.” The room slowly starts revolving around me. I shake my head, but it doesn’t help. “Fuck.”
“Sir?” Ahsan asks.
I close my eyes and rub my forehead. “It’s nothing I just feel dizzy.”
“You should sit down.”
“Did you eat the tablets Ali gave you after taking your blood?”
“I did.” I sit back down. Pain shoots through my head at the action, and the room moves faster. Maybe getting dizzy is just you getting the capability of seeing how fast the earth truly revolves. Not a pretty sight. Literally.
“Ask someone to bring him some juice.” Dr. Asif says hurriedly, and I hear footsteps coming towards me. “Let me check your blood pressure. You gave two pints of blood, if it’s low you’ll-”
“I won’t be the one going into a comma, so don’t worry.” I snap at him. “Ahsan, no need to ask for juice. We’ll grab some on our way to the hotel.”
“We’re leaving?” I don’t answer, instead focusing on getting the dizziness out of my head. I close my eyes, and force my body to relax. My mind buzzes and it feels like its riding a fast merry go round. I lay my head back.
After a while, it gets better, and the buzzing gets lighter, my head slowing down.
I don’t open my eyes. “Ahsan, can you get me some spare clothes from the empty bedroom upstairs? I don’t think climbing stairs is the smartest idea. I probably have some from last time.”
“Last time you were here was last year.”
“Yes, but the clothes are in plastic bags in the closet. It’s better then leaving in this.” I gesture at my bloody clothes. I didn’t change from today morning. Mansha’s blood is crusted on my clothes and skin.
Ahsan leaves the room, Dr. Asif following behind him. I’m left behind to stare at Mansha, like I have been the past hour. Silently, I will her to wake up. More then half of me screams that it’s a bad idea keeping her here, but taking her to the hospital is worse. And only she can solve this problem by waking up.
Despite knowing it’s a bad idea, I get up and walk over to her, pain shooting through my head. I walk over and sit on my heels near her face.
She has bruises on her face, and her lip is cut, the blood clotted over the wound. Even her hair is covered in blood.
I realise her hair are not open nor tied up. She probably had them in a bun when she got attacked. Strands hang out from it, huge chunks still tied up and pulling at her skull. I carefully untie the band from the maze of tangled hair. I wonder if we have a hairbrush here somewhere.
Her black hair are very long and thick, but I don’t see that as a good attribute right now, when it’s all over her face and bed. Maybe I can convince her to cut them off. I brush them away from her face with my hand, putting them all carefully on one side. I’m bent over her face when I see her eyelash flutter.
A gasp leaves me, and I draw closer, staring at her. A while passes, and then, both eyelashes flutter, more vividly then the last.
“Come on Mansha, come on.” I coax softly. I don’t want to leave here not knowing if she woke up or not. She’ll make me the happiest man alive by just opening her eyes.
“Uhm sir?” I hear Ahsan clear his throat. I look away from Mansha, my head buzzing again at the movement.
“She’s about to wake up, call Dr. Asif.” Ahsan stares over my shoulder. “Ahsan, ???.” I say sharply. He points behind me.
I look back, and my heart lurches into my throat. Mansha is staring back at me with wide, red eyes. It’s such a creepy sight that it takes me a second to realise it means she’s awake.
My open mouth twists up into a grin. “You’re awake.”
-××××××××-
“Can I ask you why you have such an expensive suit rotting in that ancient closet?”
My eyes don’t leave Mansha, as Ali, Dr. Asif’s assistant, inserts a cannula in Mansha’s hand, connecting it to a tube of liquid. “For times like these.” I respond.
“Do you have soap for times like these as well?” I shoot Ahsan a look. “Maybe take a shower- to get rid of the blood.” He adds when I keep glaring.
“I will.” I turn to Dr. Asif, who’s examining her wound. “Do you think she’ll be ok?”
He nods. “She’s stable, but will be fading in and out for a while. Because of the after effects of anesthesia and well…. PTSD.”
I raise an eyebrow. “PTSD?”
“Most patients who’ve had accidents go through it. Assessing from her wound, hers seems pretty traumatic.”
I look at Mansha. It’s very stupid of me to hope she’ll just get up and start moving around, but I don’t expect anything else from her. Lying there wounded and helpless is so unlike her. My heart swells with pity.
“I suppose. Keep me updated ok?” I turn to Ahsan. “I’ll go change. Tell Saleem to instruct the guards to keep a sharp eye out, I don’t want anything going awry. Oh and tell my lawyer to meet us at the hotel.”
Ahsan nods and leaves. I take one last look at Mansha, before heading to the bathroom.
I decide to use the one everyone frequented today. It’s the cleanest one, the rest are all rusty and smell bad due to disuse. This one smells too, but it’s much better.
When I look in the mirror, I realise why Ahsan suggested I shower. There’s more blood on me then I thought. It’s smudged on my cheek, ear and even in my hairline. And it’s like my clothes were dipped in it then left out to dry.
The resulting look reminds me of that day, but I push away the memory and get in the shower.