Layla
Aldo’s new recovery room was significantly more comfortable—and homey—than his room at the hospital had been. Expected, I suppose, for a man of his status. Still felt strange to me, as an ER doctor, to care for a patient from the comfort of his own home.
“You’re getting spoiled.” I leaned over to adjust the pillows behind him, hands brisk but gentle. “You’ll be expecting me to spoon feed you next.”
Aldo’s mouth turned in half a grin. “Or maybe you’re just fussing.”
“How are you feeling?” I rolled my eyes, nudged a glass of water towards him. “Any changes?”
His recovery was slow but steady. He’d regained his usual color and complexion, could eat and drink normally, and would soon enough be back on his feet. “Nothing new to report, Doc. How’s Eli?”
“Good.” I settled onto the chai
