Taming the Author

28: Do not be Self-centered

I watched the nurses detach the tubes that hindered Rupert from speaking. He woke up minutes ago, just as I successfully moved Loramina to the couch.

The nurses did their best to block my view, and I took it as a cue to look away. It was difficult, after all, for the patient's family to watch strangers pulling out tubes out of their loved one's throats.

I glanced at Loramina's face as I sat at the edge of the leather seat. She was facing Rupert's bed. It seemed that even in her dreams, she sought to guard him.

It was my second time in the hospital since Rupert's confinement in the ICU; the third day of Loramina's stay. I decided to dedicate my after-office hours to Rupert since the old man had also been like a family to me. I owed him a lot of things and to say that I didn't get affected at the sight of him being tied up in the gurney would be a lie.

I studied the slight crease on Loramina's forehead, her outstretched hand over the edge of the couch, the guarded curl she did against the cushion...

I pursed my lips. The fact about losing Rupert was slowly, painfully , sinking into me.

She had already absorbed what was happening. That was the reason why it wasn't until she lost all control over her body that she abandoned her place beside him. It wasn't until her body succumbed to fatigue that she slept deep enough that not even lifting her off the chair woke her.

My Gandelf the Great, Rupert Warren, was dying soon. I would no longer have anyone I could talk to about Loramina. I wouldn't have anyone to talk to about my problems with the position he handed to me, and I would no longer have a grandpa I could visit.

I glanced at the bed just as the nurses walked away with the breathing tubes they previously slipped down to his lungs. I found Rupert smiling happily at me despite the massive deterioration of his body.

I smiled back and gingerly took my seat next to his bed. "Water?" I asked.

"Already had one," he answered in a husky voice as he shakily pointed at the glass of water at the bedside table.

I nodded and held the hand he was resting on the bed. "So...Are you feeling any pain?"

"Nope," he whispered. Then he winced. "Well...nothing I hadn't felt before. Tolerable." He looked at the couch behind me and sighed. "How long has she been here?"

"Three days," I answered.

He looked sadly at me. "You?"

I smirked. "I got here an hour ago."

He smiled. "But you've been here before?"

I nodded.

"I'm sorry," he said, squeezing my hand and looking deeply apologetic at me.

I shook my head. "You've done so much for us," I said. "I wouldn't be here without your recommendation, and I wouldn't have found Loramina without that job."

He smiled. "You...are in good terms, yes?"

I stiffened. I didn't know what to say. Loramina and I hadn't talked about her "betrayal." It just felt wrong to confront her when she was grieving. "O—-Of course," I answered. "Well, aside from the usual insults we throw at each other, I'd say we're in our usual terms. Why do you ask?"

He smiled — relief flooding his tired eyes. "I'm glad," he said. "Lora seemed troubled when she met me; at least that was what I remember. She kept apologizing to me, and she said something about being a bad person to you."

I forced out a chuckle. "She's a bully, but nothing I can't handle."

He chuckled back. "I'm really happy you work so well together," he said. "You did a great job on those manuscripts!"