Chapter 5.

Chris drove Flora to Providence Hospital. She tried to engage him in small talk about the weather and the recent killings going on in some parts of the country. She laughed so hard to everything he said.

She simply couldn't believe her luck. A guy she wanted all this while, just within reach now. He did smile, but never laughed. She was impressed by his intelligence. She glanced at him and resisted the urge to stroke his face. She wasn't sure how his reception would be if she tried. He always wore this beautiful, blank expression, as if he was lost in thoughts.

After pulling into the hospital's parking lot, Chris carried her in, since she claimed she could barely stand. The hospital administration insisted on giving no treatment until they had opened a folder and paid the bill. Chris was disgusted. He couldn't understand what was wrong with the country. Had it been she was dying and he had no money on him, he was sure they would have been sent away. Rotten economy.

He grimaced and stepped out to get the money. He paid for everything at once, while Flora looked on in admiration. Yes, she loved his personality, but she also loved his money and that was why she wasn't giving him up without a fight.

A doctor examined her and said she had a lot of lacerations and a few fractures. Chris didn't really care to hear all the medical jargon. She was assigned a room and he carried her in.

"You should go," Flora said, the moment she landed on the bed.

Chris didn't seem to be in a hurry to leave. He was busy exploring the room, picking this and dropping it, then reading a poster on the wall and checking the cabinet. Flora was freaking out.

"Umm... I said, you may go now. You just came back from work and you must be very tired. I'm sorry for the inconveniences. I do appreciate your kindness," she said softly, trying to tamp down her accelerating heartbeat.

"I have to make sure you're fine," he said nonchalantly, poking around a set of drawers. He glanced at his watch, 8:05pm.

"But I'm fine now," she cut in, trying not to fidget. She had sent Lily a quick text message when Iyke left to call Chris back at the house, asking her to bring fresh clothes, pyjamas and toiletries to the hospital.

She promised to explain everything when Lily got there. She should have delayed sending it, but it was getting late already and it would be impossible for Lily to find transport from their remote apartment if she didn't come out early enough. She seriously dreaded having Lily meet Chris here.

"Are you chasing me away ma'am?" Chris asked with a smirk, his eyes twinkling with mischief. She panicked, then realized he was joking and relaxed.

She smiled. "I could hardly chase you while still in convalescence. The doctor will refer me to a psychiatrist," she said. Her best effort at humour.

Chris laughed, a deep rumble. She was pleased. So Chris could laugh? So she could make him laugh? She smiled so much her eyes crinkled at the corners. She was making progress.

"I just kind of, want to be left alone," she tried, hoping he wasn't offended.

Chris nodded grimly. He understood the need. She needed time and space to get over the incidence and the darts of someone she called a friend. Lily totally fooled them all.

Her phone rang. It was Lily. After a couple of yeses, noes and a vague mention of east wing, she hung up. Lily was in the hospital and wanted to know which room she was in.

Chris finally stood to leave. He patted her on the shoulder. "Thank you and get well soon."

She smiled, resisting the urge to take that hand and press her face into it. She must behave herself. Chris liked good girls. "Please, I should be the one thanking you. I appreciate you for everything."

He hesitated. "Who will take care of you? You've not even eaten."

"I asked a friend to come over," she said, stumbling over her words. His hand was still on her shoulder and the weight of it seared her skin. If this was another day and time, she would have done something she was sure to regret.

She loved his scent. He smelled... Nice, masculine, dependable. Then reality kicked in again and all her attention turned towards the door. Please go, please go, she pleaded silently, wringing her fingers. Lily would soon burst in here any moment. The door handle turned.

Flora's heart jumped into her mouth and she gave out a little cry. Her eyes fastened on the intruder. The nurse walked in, carrying a tray of tablets, plaster, bandaid, methylated spirit and cotton wool.

"Will you be alright?" Chris asked, worried. She must be in pain. Flora was relieved, but was still sweating profusely.

"I'm already fine," She said with forced calm, trying not to scream. Wouldn't the guy start going already?

"Please take care of her," he said to the nurse, who nodded disinterestedly. Giving her a final squeeze on the shoulder, he left and shut the door with a click.

Flora remained tense for a while. Her shoulders slowly sagged in relief as his footsteps faded.

"Wow, that's some good-looking young man," the nurse said, giving her tablets of an analgesic to arrest the pain.

"Huh?" Flora was surprised. She swallowed the tablets with water. The nurse should be about fifty if she was a day.

The nurse chuckled at the look of disbelief on her face. "Any woman under the age of 60 should notice a good-looking guy. Call me Tess. I will be back in an hour to clean your wounds. The doctor will be here to stitch the lacerations as well." She made Flora comfortable on the bed and left.

Flora didn't hear a word the nurse said. She was getting worried. She was and wasn't expecting Lily to come in immediately. If Lily came in immediately, then she might meet Chris on the way. If she didn't, then she might have met him and they were probably talking now.

Maybe they'd bumped into each other along the hospital corridors. Why wasn't Lily coming in? Flora wasn't sure if the audible pounding she heard, was her heartbeat. It must be going like a thousand beats per second.

Did Chris meet Lily on the way? Were they talking now? Flora clutched at the bed spread frantically, eyes darting around the room in suppressed panic. Maybe she had explained everything to Chris. Were they coming to confront her now? Lily wouldn't forgive her, she was sure. What could she do without Lily, if her plans collapsed?

Chris jumped into his car, finally deciding to ignore the figure he felt looked familiar. He didn't see her clearly. She was rushing off into the shadows when he looked. He sat for a while, wondering if his eyes were not playing tricks on him. Maybe he should just make sure? Nonsense. He never really wanted to see her anymore and he had seen to that. He'd informed his secretary never to let her into his office if she ever visited.

Oh hell! So it had also gotten to this? Hallucinating about Lily? Besides, there was no way she could be at the hospital. The bitch couldn't care less if her friend was dead or not. God, he missed her. He buried his face in his hands and struggled to pull himself together.

Getting through the day without her, was very excruciating. He had to keep reminding himself to hold unto his pride and self respect. That was all he had left. He wasn't going to grovel for the bitch. He was hurting terribly. He ignited the engine. So, what to do tonight? Beat Iyke at the game and see if he could get some sleep, without thinking about her.

Flora pressed a palm to her forehead. She suddenly felt so dizzy and weak. What if he had seen Lily and the truth had been revealed? She would probably be thrown out into the streets. Lily wouldn't support her anymore. She would be homeless and helpless again. The bad men would then catch her again, do bad things to her and leave her in a bush...

In a bush. It was all dark. She was screaming and kicking. They laughed meanly and smelled like rotten carcass. She screamed with all her strength, but it was all useless. He slapped her and rendered her immobile. She clutched the grass and counted backwards from hundred to zero, until they all had their way and left her feeling sore, used, bitter. She hated to remember.

Huddled near an edge of the hospital bed, her eyes burnt with unshed tears and dread. Her clothes were drenched with sweat and her temple throbbed furiously. This was paranoia, triggered by thoughts, harassing her with memories. She thought she would heal, but she never did.

She felt nauseous, as déjà vu hit her like a hammer to the cranium. The effects of all the day's beatings came down on her in one powerful wave of vertigo. As she sank into varying depths of unconsciousness, it all began to make sense. Why she must have Chris even if it killed her. All she ever wanted was a home, a place to run into and hide from the cruel world, someone who would cherish and love her.

Then she wanted nothing. And felt nothing. She felt herself collapsing into the beckoning silence and darkness, while life quietly seeped out of her. She was vaguely aware of the door bursting open and someone screaming her name. Sounded like it was coming from afar, as she proceeded deeper into the depths of darkness.

Who could that be? Mama? No, she was probably with her sixth boyfriend now. Surely not her Father. Papa was never sober, always too drunk to care. Only one person ever thought of Flora. Only one person didn't treat her like an annoying fly. Only one person really cared; the very person she betrayed.

She only wanted love, affection, someone to hold her while she cried. She never did things right. Forgive Flora. Even thinking was difficult. Her head hurt. Then she gave in to the darkness that welcomed her and everything went black.

To be continued...