Between Two Minds

Part 6

As I arrive back at the manor, the first thing I do is head straight to Viola's room. But it's empty. My voice echoes through the quiet house as I call out her name, assuming she might be in the shower, yet I receive no response. My curiosity piqued, I follow a faint rustling of pages to the library, where I discover her, asleep on one of the chairs. Her delicate form rests against the imposing backdrop of the chair, a book still in her hands. It's evident that she must have drifted off while engrossed in her reading. As I approach her, I take care to make no noise, not wanting to disturb her peace.

Her unruly curls cascade over her face, covering half of it. For a moment, I consider tucking them behind her ear, but I resist the impulse. I don't want to make her uncomfortable. Viola has enough to deal with already. Although she is still weak and looks fragile, she has improved a lot over the last few days that she has been awake. There's more colour on her face now. She is no longer the pale, unconscious girl I had once brought in, she is a beautiful lively woman who is facing everything with a strength I never thought she'd have.

When I brought her to the manor, I pondered how she might react upon waking, or even what would happen if she didn't. My thoughts often strayed to the uncertainties of what the future might hold. Who would take acre of her when the time for me to leave came around and eventually decided that if she didn't wake up, I would take her back with me.

But what I never considered was the scenario where she did wake up. The day Linda called with the news that Viola had regained consciousness, my heart momentarily ceased to beat before resuming at an unhealthy pace. I wrapped up my meetings, sprinted home, making a beeline for the forest. The girl was something else altogether. She had awakened in an unfamiliar world with no memories, and her first act was to explore an unfamiliar forest. Each day, every interaction with her leaves me more intrigued. In my career, I've encountered many amnesia patients, but none quite like Viola. She seems to find humour even in one of the most difficult of times, it makes me wonder about how her life must have been before all this.

I linger in the library for a few more minutes, watching her sleep, observing her. Eventually, I exit the library, being careful to close the door silently behind me. After freshening up, I make another attempt to reach Seraphina, but once again, there's no answer. Giving up for now, I head to the kitchen and begin preparing dinner.

Just as I'm about to finish making the pasta, I hear Viola's footsteps approaching. "Good morning, sleeping beauty," I say as she approaches the kitchen counter, and she smiles at me sheepishly. "Good morning, sorry I didn't realize you were back," she responds. "It's alright; I find the library quite cozy myself. Come on, dinner's ready. Do you want to freshen up before you eat?" I ask, and she nods.

"Make it quick; pasta doesn't taste good when it's cold."

"Okay," she says and heads towards her room. I made sure to buy some more clothes and supplies for her after the embarrassing incident the other day. I hadn't meant to make her uncomfortable, but I was caught off guard when I saw her in just a towel. It's been a long time since I've been close to anyone. The doctor in me usually takes precedence, but for a moment, the man starved of any form of physical contact for the past couple of years came to the surface allowing my long-neglected desires to emerge briefly, and I couldn't help but react.

She comes back down about 10 minutes later wearing the blue pyjama shorts and a white tank top I had picked out. I remember worrying if it was a bit much to buy her shorts but had bought it anyway. Seeing her wear it puts me at ease, it somehow makes me feel like she is comfortable around me. Her hair is now tied up in a messy bun with a few loose strands framing her small face and I can't help but admire how she looks even in the simplest of looks. I immediately shake myself out of the feeling kicking myself mentally and start serving to busy my mind.

"I am not sure if you will like it, but this is one of my comfort meals", I say as I hand her the plate of spaghetti. Its true; I remember my mother making it for me as a kid. I loved it so much I had pestered her into teaching me how to make it. I smile at the memory as I take my first bite and look at Viola. Her wide-eyed reaction when she takes her first bite catches my attention.

"What is it not good?", I inquire concerned.

Viola then proceeds to close her eyes as she eats and hums in a way that sends shivers down my spine. The sound of her voice and the way she licks her lips prove to be a delightful torment for me right now. My heart races as I watch her savor the meal, every now and then commenting on how good it tastes with a mouthful. Her enjoyment of the meal brings a rare smile to my face.

"How was your day?" she asks, still eating. I'm momentarily taken aback by the question. It's such a simple, everyday thing to ask, yet it feels like ages since anyone has asked me about my day. I contemplate how to respond. As I tell her about my day, I find myself sharing more than I intended.

"Equally good and equally bad," I say, the words escaping more easily than I'd expected.

Viola nods thoughtfully, her eyes holding a hint of understanding. When I ask her the same thing, she responds, "It was as good as it can be." I nod, appreciating her understanding.

As we're about to finish the meal, I find myself wanting to spend more time with her, so I ask, "Would you like to watch a movie after this?"

"Sure!" she exclaims excitedly.