Nevara
After several hours in bed, my legs had begun to feel as though they belonged to someone else.
The physician had not placed me on complete bed rest. I was still permitted to walk to the bathroom and move around the room briefly as long as I stopped the moment I felt dizzy or overheated. Three slow laps between the bed and the sofa hardly qualified as rebellion.
Drake disagreed.
He sat in the chair near the window, watching me with narrowed eyes while holding his phone like a stopwatch.
“You have been vertical for two minutes and forty-seven seconds.”
“I am getting my blood flowing.”
“Your blood was flowing perfectly well in bed.”
“That is not how circulation works.”
“I’m not a physician.”
“Clearly.”
I turned near the sofa and began another slow pass across the rug. My bod
