19 Serious concerns

Ruth's POV

As I walked back into the bedroom, my eyes landed on the oval shaped mirror that hung near the door, and it was then that I understood why Leo had called me a banshee.

My hairs were all over the place, frizzed out like dry hay that looked dirty as if I hadn't washed them just this morning.

There were bags under my eyes even though I had spent better part of my day sleeping, my skin looked pale and lifeless and my lips parched.

Add to that, my stark hospital gown and a shrill scream, it really was a wonder Leo didn't come after me with a dagger and a cross.

As I wandered in, phone caught my eye again but then realised that it will have to wait. Deciding to take a shower before anything else to wash off this godforsaken day and chlorine water off me, I dug my PJs and other things out of my bag and took a long, hot shower. Once the tension had completely drained from my muscles, my mind started reflecting on the day.

But even as I thought about what had happened this morning, my heart beat kicked up and I had to swallow to keep bubbling fear below the surface.

Well, it seemed I wasn't ready to think about that yet. Instead, I thought back to the incident at the pool a few minutes ago, a chuckle escaping me as I recalled Leo's terrified expression.

It really wasn't every day that you saw someone as huge as him floundering away from a supposed banshee, giving you a tough competition in the screaming contest.

I reached for the towel, but my hand froze mid-way as something Leo had said came back and hit me like a freight train.

"Worried your roommate might see something she'd like more?"

Roommate? Oh my god.

***

"Oh my god!" Shayari's usually husky voice exclaimed in horror as I finished recounting my last 24 hours to her.

I had of course, not told her the details of the mishap, simply because I couldn't bear to even replay it in my mind yet. I took a deep breathe, trying to dispel the images of that car. I felt foolish to feel even remotely shaken up by it. It wasn't like it was a very traumatic event or anything. People suffered worse and didn't act all delicate dolls like me.

Infact, compared to what could've happened, I felt I got away from it relatively unscathed. And that was the main reason I hadn't delved the details of it to Shayari. Even to her, I did not want to appear weak and shaken up.

Since our dinner was still not delivered, I had decided to return a few of those missed calls, opting to respond to Shayari's calls rather than my family's.

Ofcourse I'd have to call them eventually, but for now I didn't have the energy to deal with them.

"Your bruises look so painful, Ruth," her voice dropped to near whisper and her eyes glittered, making me regret opting for a face-time instead of a regular call.

"They just look bad, Shy. Honestly, I think I was lucky for getting away from something like that with just a few scratches."

It was the truth, and even though Shayari's eyes still reflected concern, she swallowed the rest of her reaction and nodded, seemingly deciding to accept my word for it instead.

And that was the reason why I had chosen to return her call instead of anybody else's. Because I knew what would have happened had it been anyone else other than her right now.

Instead of understanding what I needed at the moment, they would've reacted like they were featuring on a Big Brother's episode, blowing the roof off with their loud over-reaction and demanding I return home at once.

They would grab this opportunity to conclude that this incident was a proof that I was incapable I was in taking care of myself and needed someone to guard me 24/7.

Taking a deep breath, Shayari narrowed her eyes and asked, "So.... Roommate, huh?"

I blew a breathe, grateful that she changed the topic, even though this one had a fluttering sensation in my stomach.

"So it seems," I said in a non-committal tone, but Shayari wasn't fooled.

"And you both like and dislike it?"

"Like it? My boss—"

"Hot boss."

"— will be in the same room with me round the clock!" I exclaimed, talking over her. Now that we were on the topic and I was allowed to ponder over it, I suddenly overwhelmed by the reality of it.

"Same room, Shayari! Living with him here. He'd be here when I wake up and when I go to sleep!"

"It's weird that all this stuff didn't cross your mind when you agreed to spend a whole weekend with him," her amused comment broke through my thoughts making me glare at her again.

"That is exactly when I had promised myself to not be in the same room with him beyond any professional capacity again. God, that canopy fiasco still haunts my dreams!"

I knew I was overreacting, but hell if I could control myself.

"Ah, so that's an embarassed blush you have on your face. Right," her smirk was making me grit my teeth. But a thought popped into my mind unbidden and my eyes widened in horror.

"What if I do something extremely stupid or disgusting in front of him, Shayari?" My voice dropped to an horrified whisper and I covered my mouth with both my hands.

"What if he is revolted when he sees me out of my perfect clothes-"

"No offense, but your clothes are hardly ever perfe-"

"What if I stink around him or he smells my morning breathe?" I knew Shayari was trying to distract me with her insincere insults, but I was on a roll, imagining all the lethal possibilities of sharing a room with Caleb.

"Or sleep in anything other than in perfectly feminine posture?"

"Assuming that he's awake to watch you sleep-"

"Shayari, what if I burp or fart?" My heart was in my throat, and strangely, I was even more scared now than I was when I was getting fucking kidnapped.

Shayari's laughter didn't help as I felt my ears go warm and my hands sweaty.

"Ruth baby, listen to me," she breathed, once her laughter died down.

"I know your first trip alone, out of state is going less than ideal, but really Ruth, with everything else on the horizon, you're really worried about the ways you can smell bad to him?"

"This is more pressing, Shy!"

"So is thinking about giving an official statement, and completing the work you went there to do, and most importantly, thinking why were you kidnapped to begin with, isn't it?"

"Easy for you to say, you didn-" but her words made me break off mid sentence.

Why were you kidnapped to begin with?

Why, indeed?

"Look," Shayari spoke in a serious tone.

"I know it's been too eventful couple of days, and there are a few things you are not ready to think about yet, but don't be all that hard on yourself, okay?"

"Even though all you've told me so far about him is that he is a hot philanderer who seems take a personal joy in tormenting the hell out of you, I can't help but feel his heart is in the right place, no matter how misguided it's working is."

I sighed, about to comment on her habit to always wanting to find good in people, but she continued before I could.

"I mean, of course he shouldn't have drugged you without your permission and all, but he did it to help you in that twisted way of his, right?"

She raised her brows the way she did when she was trying to gently drill a hole through your brain, and continued.

"Think about it. He brought you safely back to your room, tucked you in without so much as coping a feel. Chased your kidnappers without any regard for his personal safety, took care of you in the hospital and, moved you both in a frigging cottage, just so he can keep an eye on you and help you if you woke up with a headache again."

She was killing me with each sentence out of her mouth.

Suddenly the guilt I had suppressed earlier rose with a vengeance as she concluded her free-trip to guiltsville, "all these stuff doesn't sound like he's the kind of guy who'd look at you any differently for discovering that you're a living thing, you know."

Exhaling, I looked at her with narrowed eyes and said, "sometimes I really hate you, you know that?"

Smiling, she replied, "mhm, I know I'm that good. Now, go get something to eat, you're practically fading away as we speak."

Wrapping up the call, I took a deep breathe and then made my way out of the room towards the gazebo, determined to get through this work trip with as much dignity as possible.