Chapter 28: Too Perfect
- RAYA -
When I wake up in the morning, one of the nurses is checking on me and my dad is rubbing his eyes, huddled on the couch.
"How are you feeling?" He asks with a tired smile.
I nod, grimacing as I shift in the bed a little bit to sit up. "Sore. Very, very, very sore."
"The doctor will be coming in to check on you in a little bit. Everything looks really good." The nurse smiles and pats my arm.
"How can you tell?" My dad asks.
"We’ll be watching the next few days to make sure she doesn’t have any more bleeding, but the surgery went really well, and there weren’t any complications. She’ll have to take it easy for awhile." She marks down some notes and reminds me where the call button is if I decide there’s anything I need.
"I hate hospitals," I groan after she leaves. "I can’t believe this happened, dad. What a nightmare."
"It is. We’re just so grateful that you’re going to be okay." He does the old man groaning when he gets up from the couch and comes to my side. "I’m going to leave for awhile to go wash up and all that. I’ll go check on your cat, too. Do you want me to bring you anything from home?"
When I try to think of what I might want—things to keep my mind busy—I recall the romance book next to my bed and my journal in the bedside drawer. And then it occurs to me: I didn’t have a dream last night! What a relief. On top of everything else, I don’t think I could manage having to deal with those dreams while I’m in the hospital.
"There’s a library book next to my bed. Would you mind bringing it?" It might not be entirely obvious by the front of the book that it’s a romance. At least, I don’t think it’s obvious—that’s part of the reason why I picked it. It looks more like a mystery. So unless Dad decides to open it and flip through, I doubt there’s any embarrassment necessary.
"Sure. Anything else?"
"I don’t think so."
He kisses me on the forehead and grabs the keys from my bag. "Your phone is right next to you if you think of something."
"Great. Thank you so much, Dad."
"No problem. See you in a little bit."
After he leaves, I grab the phone and am shocked to see a notification from Dex above one from Rory. He must have put himself in my phone.
"Oh my god, this man. There has to be a major personality flaw somewhere." I stare at the notification with his name wondering what it might say but not having the courage yet to check for some reason.
He can’t possibly be this sweet. There aren’t real guys like that. I mean, Dex is not only wealthy and completely unpretentious—I’m assuming he’s wealthy anyway, based on the fact that he is a Möbius and has been traveling the world for who knows how many years—but he’s also one of the most attractive men I’ve ever seen. The girls at the office call him ’Sexy Dexy’ for a reason. Although they’re not wrong, a small spear of jealousy shoots through my heart at the memory.
I wonder if someone will be brought in to replace me. That’s not necessarily a bad thing. Lawson would no longer be able to use me to try spying on his brother. And it’s not like I wanted to be Dex’s assistant. I’m not at Möbius Media for that. But, if I’m honest with myself, I don’t want anyone else to be his assistant either...
"How did this happen? Why? Why am I having dreams of you? Why are you real?" My eyes start to water, and I groan, wiping them and clicking on the notification from Rory instead.
’Hey sis. Can’t sleep thinking about how you are. Let me know when you wake up and read this.’ A second bubble below it says: ’Oh and I forgot to mention that Dex said he put himself in your phone. He said not to worry about work. I might have misjudged him.’
I scoff and smile, shaking my head and typing back a quick reply.
’Morning. Nurse said things look good. Will be talking to Dr. later.’ I pause and think if there’s anything to add. ’Dex is too perfect. There must be a flaw. :)’ I hit the send button and watch it get delivered before clicking on Dex’s message next.
’Good morning, Raya. Your internship will be here when you are well. Don’t worry about getting back quickly. And if you need anything, please let us know.’
I stare at the text, reading it over a few times. Please let ’us’ know. That’s deliberate, and that’s okay. I understand.
Now how do I respond? I bite my lip and start typing, wondering exactly how to remain entirely professional after something insane like what happened yesterday that completely overflowed the boundaries of professional life.
’Thank you so much for helping me yesterday. Apparently the surgery went very well and I should be returning home Sunday.’
I push send and stare at the words and think of how much is left out—how much isn’t said. I want to apologize for how out of it I was. I want to thank him for being so caring. I want to take back the question about whether he dreams of me. When I remember that particular detail, it makes me groan with embarrassment.
What was I thinking? Did I expect him to say yes?
’I’ll probably be pretty bored here at the hospital, so if you think of any work I can do here...’
After I type it, I delete it. What would he have me do? It’s a stupid suggestion. I can’t answer calls or anything else. I suppose I could jot down some more ideas for Moxie Coffee.
A wave of nausea comes over me when I think of how I was standing at the corner doing just that right before all of this happened. I honestly don’t know if I can return to that notebook again.
When I look back down at the phone, little dots have popped up indicating that he’s typing back and I drop the phone in my lap, staring at it nervously, wondering what he’s going to say next.
’That’s a relief. I looked up liver injuries from car accidents when I got home, and they’re pretty scary. Please rest well.’
Then a ’get well soon’ gif pops up with half an avocado putting its pit back into its stomach and smiling, and I giggle. That is super adorable and nerdy, and I love it.
I send him back one of an avocado pit jumping and giving its green half a high five.
The dots pop up with him typing again, and I try to picture where he is right now. Is he at home? It’s probably too early for him to be at work already.
’Once I get into the office, I’ll send you a new project to brainstorm ideas for to keep your mind busy. There’s a client I want to pitch an idea to, and I think you can help. If you’re up to it, of course. No pressure.’
I stare at the phone as a bright, beautiful warmth springs to life in my chest.
’That would be amazing. I was just wondering what I was going to do here. Thank you.’
He sends a thumbs-up, and a ridiculously huge smile grows on my face. God, he really is too perfect, isn’t he?
