"Come, sit next to me," he gestured with his hand and patted the bed space next to him.
Izabella reluctantly followed what the man wanted to happen.
"I'd rather occupy this chair so we can talk properly," she said, pulling the one-seater leatherette sofa beside his bed.
He laughed with slightly arched eyebrows, "Come on, Iza. What kind of behavior is that? Why so timid when you're my wife..."
"Shut up, Aleksander. You know what kind of marriage we agreed on. Don't make fun of me," she whispered. "I want a proper conversation with you. And I mean talk..."
"Oh! So, are we back to our proper state of memory?" He asked, his eyes never leaving hers.
"Yes. I don't know what happened. I woke up leaning against that tree and gradually remembered everything. You seem to know what happened to
