As the afternoon progressed, I felt worse and worse. The cold was really getting to me, so I asked a colleague to replace me. "I can't go on, I feel awful," I told her. I didn't even go to see Alexander; instead, I headed home. However, the fever kept rising, so I decided to visit my doctor friend, Alicia.
Alicia examined me and prescribed some painkillers. Then, with a smile, she gave me unexpected news: The unknown man is fine. There's nothing out of the ordinary, so we'll discharge him tomorrow.
I'm glad to know Alexander is okay, I replied, relieved.
Alexander? Is that his name? Alicia asked, confused.
I clarify, no. He still doesn't remember his name. I called him that so I wouldn't keep referring to him as 'the unknown man' or 'the nameless one,' I explained. Also, I'm thinking of bringing him to live in my house.
Alicia looked at me in disbelief. Are you crazy? How are you going to put a stranger in your house? You'd better take him to a police station and report his case.
"No, Alicia," I replied. Something tells me that man is in danger. Until he recovers his memory, he will live with me. And if he tries to get smart, my pots are waiting for a head to crack, I said, laughing.
Alicia couldn't help but smile at my comment, although she still looked worried. I hope you know what you're doing, Melisa, she finally said.
Trust me, I replied before saying goodbye and leaving her office.
The cold had completely defeated me. Despite taking the pills, my body still felt like a truck had run over me.
I couldn't go on like this. Working in those conditions was not only a risk for me, but also for the patients. So, with resignation, I picked up the phone and called the hospital to report that I was sick and wouldn't be able to go to work tomorrow.
"A week off?" I repeated in surprise when the supervisor confirmed it, I wanted to protest, but then I remembered how miserable I felt and sighed.
"Okay, thank you."
I hung up the phone and collapsed on the sofa.
"Damn cold..." I muttered, annoyed, curling up under a blanket.
But I couldn't rest completely. I had a new "tenant" to take home.
After picking up Alexander at the hospital, we headed to my house. He didn't talk much on the way, he just watched the city with a distant expression, as if he was hoping that some image would awaken his memory. But nothing.
When we arrived, I opened the door and Michiru, my cat, came running as always. He gently rubbed against my legs, demanding his dose of affection.
"Hello, my beautiful baby," I said, caressing him. "Ready to meet our new guest?"
But as soon as Michiru laid eyes on Alexander, his attitude changed drastically. His back arched, his tail puffed up like a feather duster, and his green eyes stared at him with absolute disdain.
Alexander, for his part, looked at him with amusement.
"He doesn't like me, does he?"
Before I could answer, Michiru hissed and, without warning, bit his ankle.
"Hey!" Alexander jumped back. "What the hell is wrong with your cat?!"
I couldn't help but laugh.
"Looks like you're not welcome here," I said between laughs. "I guess he's defending his territory."
Michiru, still indignant, walked away with his head held high, as if he had just won an important battle.
"Great... my first enemy in this house is a cat," Alexander muttered, massaging his ankle.
"You'll get used to it," I said with a smile. "Come on, I'll show you your room."
I led him down the hall to the small guest room.
"It's not very big, but it's cozy. It has everything you need."
Alexander took a look.
"It's fine. Thank you for everything, Melisa."
"No problem," I replied with a yawn. "But now, if you'll excuse me, I need to sleep. My whole beautiful body hurts."
I said goodbye with a tired smile and locked myself in my room, collapsing on the bed like a sack of potatoes.
Alexander stood in silence, watching Melisa's door. He could tell that she really wasn't feeling well.
He looked around. The house was small but had a warm and homely air. The first person to offer him help selflessly was also the first to get sick for doing so.
He sighed.
"I guess I should do something for her..."
The problem was that he didn't have the slightest idea how to cook.
Determined, he went to the kitchen.
"Okay, how hard can it be to make coffee?"
He opened a cupboard, found instant coffee, and put water in a pot to heat it on the stove. Everything seemed to be going well... until, for unknown reasons, the water started to burn.
Literally.
Smoke began to come out of the pot and in a matter of seconds the kitchen was filled with a terrible burnt smell.
"Shit!" he exclaimed, clumsily taking it off the heat.
The disaster was enough to wake Melisa from her deep sleep.
In her semiconscious state, the first thing she thought was that her house was on fire.
"What the hell is going on?!" she shouted, staggering out of her room, still half asleep.
She ran to the kitchen and stopped dead in her tracks when she saw Alexander standing there, with the smoking pot in his hands and a look of defeat.
"I tried..." he said in a serious voice. "But I think I burned the water."
Melisa looked at him, looked at the pot, then looked back at him.
And burst out laughing.
"No way! How do you burn water? That's a special talent!"
Alexander sighed, resigned.
"Yeah, well... I figured it couldn't be that hard, but apparently I was wrong."
Melisa wiped away her tears of laughter and shook her head.
"You know what... forget about the kitchen for today. We better order takeout before you set my house on fire for real."
Alexander nodded silently, without resisting or questioning.
"Good idea."
While she ordered the food, he leaned against the counter, watching her carefully. Despite her obvious discomfort, she had found a way to laugh and make him feel a little less... ridiculous.
Maybe, after all, it wasn't such a bad idea to have stayed here.
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