Page 55 of Cloud Storm

I need to keep myself busy and occupied.

Looking in the kitchen cupboards I find a couple of painkillers and with a lot of effort I get him to swallow them. Early in the morning I’ll go to the pharmacy to get something else or maybe if he’s no better, take him to the ER. I wish I was stronger, fitter, because I don’t know if I can move him in the state he’s in right now.

And I’m so tired, drained.

How have I ended up in a situation like this? On one hand, hooked up with a romance that, as was proved, only exists in my head.

On the other hand, attracted in a way that I don’t even understand to a man who is in love with another woman. And an unfaithful one at that, because he still wanted to have a good time with me.

Of course I know very well why this has happened to me. It was because a while back, in one of my many visits to the library, I was listening to other people’s conversations, and I overheard a couple of chicks talking about a new dating portal called Perfect Match dot com.

Have you ever heard the saying ‘curiosity killed the cat?’

They were very excited, talking and showing off about the new guys in their lives and, having walked under the shadow of shame a couple of times, I wanted to have a good time too.

The truth is, aside from King Arthur, I only chatted with one other guy. But after finding the regent of Camelot, I lost interest in the other guy and continued on with just him. From then on I was hooked. Addicted to our talks, every day counting the hours to receive a new notification.

I must clarify that our conversations began in a rather innocent way. In those days I hadn’t started working for Mr. Hatz yet and our conversations became my daily escape from the harsh reality that surrounded me. With Arthur, I could talk about anything without feeling judged, even when I told him about my new business and the plans I had. Nothing concrete, of course, but without even knowing it, Arthur became my virtual partner as I made plans for my bright future.

Arthur was the vehicle I used to vent my anger when I met Lancelot at the bank.

It seems ridiculous in the 21st century, talking about medieval knights. But this is the reality of my life.

Or is it my fantasy?

A nightmare perhaps?

Someone, please come and wake me up, please, because these days I haven’t been having much fun to speak of.

I barely realize that I’ve fallen asleep in bed beside Lancelot, until I wake up in the morning completely disoriented, with his warm body next to mine.

He’s really hot—I mean—because of the fever, you wicked minded people. But thankfully I think his temperature has dropped somewhat.

I don’t like to leave him here alone, but I don’t have a lot of choice. Roselynn isn’t at home and I don’t think Mr. Hatz is either. While he claimed to have a business meeting last night, I highly doubt it. An attractive widower of little more than sixty years does not meet with some investors on a Friday night after nine o’clock. I’d bet he had a date, and not one involving business.

I get out of bed and look at the disheveled state of my clothes. You’d be forgiven for thinking I’d enjoyed a night of wild passion, but sadly nothing could be further from the truth.

I run to my apartment and as quickly as possible I take a shower, get dressed in something comfortable, then head out to the pharmacy located just around the corner.

There, with the help of a kind clerk, I buy everything I think is necessary to take care of Lancelot. From a wide range of antipyretics, to the largest assortment of flu medicines I’ve been able to stock up on.

Because the way I heard him cough last night, what Lancelot has is a very nasty cold that he’s neglected to treat- well I hope so, anyway. It doesn’t surprise me that he got sick after the soaking we got in the rain on Monday at Seaport.

Ironic, eh?

As I said, karma is a vindictive bitch.

Perhaps I am atoning for my guilt by taking care of him.

That is, the Suit is my penance.

My nemesis.

Let’s see what he says when he finally stirs from his slumber.

On my way back from the pharmacy, I pass by my apartment to pick up some ingredients. Lancelot needs to eat and a good hot soup should fit the bill.

Once back at his home, I get down to work. Chopping the vegetables carefully, I don’t want the Suit to choke on a slice of carrot.

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