30. Ray's Advice.

My head hurt like someone had lodged a hammer inside my skull and was swinging at every beat of my heart. A dull, splitting ache spread from behind my eyes down the sides of my face, pulling me into a groan as consciousness clawed its way back.

Light.

A rectangle shaped panel light above me. I blinked hard, once, twice, but the brightness only sharpened the pounding in my temples. My vision swam. I pressed my palm against my forehead, dragging it slowly down to my eyes, trying to steady myself.

“Ugh… what the hell…” My own voice rasped dry in my throat.

I shifted, felt the stiff fabric of a sheet beneath me, and realized I was lying on a bed. Not mine. Too hard. Too tucked-in. The smell wasn’t familiar either—clean, slightly clinical.

I **** myself upright, though the movement sent a wave of nausea rolling through me. My stomach twisted. I gritted my teeth, sitting on the edge of the bed, head heavy between my hands.

Only then did I notice her.

My wife.

She was slumped forward in a chair, arms folded on the mattress right beside me. Her cheek rested on her hands, lips slightly parted as soft breaths slipped out in rhythm. She’d fallen asleep waiting like that, half-sitting, half-collapsed.

I blinked down at her, the ache in my head momentarily forgotten.

Why… why is she here like this? Why didn’t she just lie down? What’s going on?

Confusion circled in my chest. My eyes dragged away from her and scanned the room.

It was small. Bare. A desk in the corner, a set of drawers near the bed I was on, and white walls broken by a few hanging frames. It looked less like a bedroom and more like… an office that someone had fitted with a cot.

My hand rubbed at my head again, trying to will the fragments in my head into place. Nothing came. I had no memory of how I ended up here.

And then my eyes stopped at something on the wall. A framed photograph.

The person inside the frame felt kinda familiar. I squinted my eyes, trying to focus on that face. The fog in my mind thinned in an instant. My eyes widened, body stiffening as if the pain had been knocked out of me.

Ray.

He was in the picture, smiling, a crisp suit hanging on his frame, one arm raised, some kind of certificate clutched proudly in his hand. A degree, official and polished. The text was sharp, his name sprawled clearly under the seal.

Ray.

Why is his picture here? I blinked hard, trying to push through the fog in my skull. Where even am I? Why… why would there be a framed photo of him hanging here?

Before I could even start to piece it together, a sound pulled my attention.

The creak of a door.

“Ah,” a smooth voice drifted in, steady, familiar, “you’re awake.”

My eyes drifted toward the voice by the door, still hazy from the pounding in my head. He came closer, pulled out a chair, and sat down. One leg crossed over the other.

I blinked a few times, trying to clear my vision. The shape of his face sharpened, the blur fading bit by bit.

It was Ray.

I just stared, blinking, trying to gather words.

“I… I don’t…” My voice cracked. “Ray, what… why are you…?”

He raised a hand lightly, as if to calm me. “I know,” he said, his tone polite, “you must be very confused. So let me answer your unanswered questions.”

My throat worked. Confusion didn’t even cover it.

He leaned back slightly, his eyes sharp but his smile never leaving. “According to what I’ve been told, you were found **** in your neighbor’s bathroom. Yeah—Lina, was it? Her husband and that young neighbor from beside you carried you here.”

I felt my heart stumble.

“U… ****?” I stammered, the word foreign on my tongue.

Ray tilted his head. “That’s right. Apparently you guys had a blast last night. You got too drunk and just fell in the bathroom, smacked your head. You should’ve been more careful.”

“Last night…?” A blast? Too drunk? Fell? The words rattled around in my skull but refused to line up.

I reached to rub the sore spot on my head, wincing as the sting flared up again. My eyes darted toward the window. Morning light was already spilling in.

“Yes. Last night.” Ray’s eyes narrowed slightly, watching me with a focus.

I tried to remember, but it was like pulling on threads that slipped right through my fingers. Nothing. Just fragments—blur, sound, then black. My head throbbed harder with every effort.

“I hit my head…?” My voice trembled, uncertain.

“You did,” Ray replied.

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to **** the memory back, but there was nothing. Just that thick, empty blankness that mocked me with its silence.

“I… I can’t remember anything,” I admitted, my voice little annoyed.

Ray leaned back in his chair, folding his hands together. “Guess you shouldn't drink more than you can handle.”

Before I could press him further, another voice cut through—softer, trembling.

“You’re awake…”

I turned my head, startled, and saw her. My wife. Her eyes glistened, her lashes wet. She leaned forward, her arms slipping around me tightly in a **** hug.

“You’re awake… thank God…”

I felt her warmth, her grip almost crushing, her breath shaky against my shoulder. For a moment, despite the pounding in my head, I let myself sink into that care, that special concern.

“Hey, hey… relax,” I whispered, trying to steady her with my hand against her back. “I’m okay. Really. I’m okay.”

Ray's voice slid in back.

“I don’t think you should hug him that tight,” Ray said. “Might make him **** again.”

My wife gasped softly and pulled back instantly, her hands trembling as she wiped the tears quickly from her cheeks.

I looked between the two of them, unsettled, then back at her. My voice was low, searching. “So… I was found ****?”

She nodded quickly, lips pressed tight before words spilled out. “Yeah… yeah. I got so scared when Lina suddenly woke me up saying you were **** in the bathroom.” Her fingers curled into a fist in her lap, knuckles white.

“I-I was so scared,” she whispered, her voice breaking.

My hand moved on its own, brushing away the tears stuck to her lashes. Her skin was warm, and the way she leaned into my palm made guilt swell inside me. I had put her through so much worry. She must have been terrified while I lay ****, completely unaware.

How lucky I was, to have someone who cherished me this deeply. My chest ached with a surge of love for her.

“So,” Ray’s voice cut through, little curious, “you really can’t remember anything at all?”

I turned my head toward him, blinking back into focus. “I… I don’t know,” I replied, my voice low. “All I can remember is... we played some games, then dinner, and… Lina’s husband brought out some bottles, and we started drinking.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to push further into the haze. A sudden sting lanced through my skull. My breath caught. “Ugh… I don’t know… I can’t remember anything past that.”

Ray gave a sympathetic hum, then reached into his desk. He slid a slip of paper across to me. “Here. Some prescribed medicines. Take it easy for the next few days.”

I took the note, staring at his neat handwriting, but my mind was elsewhere. Once again I couldn’t shake it — how different he seemed. So polite, so normal, just like the very first time I had interacted with him.

Without thinking, the question slipped from my lips. “I thought you worked in a medical store?”

Ray chuckled, a sharp little laugh that filled the room. “Haha, well, yeah, you’re right about that. But I’m also a doctor,” he added, winking with a casual ease. “Honestly, I didn’t expect our next interaction would be like this.”

I let out a shaky chuckle of my own. “Y-yeah…”

Ray leaned back in his chair, then shifted his eyes toward my wife. “Would you mind waiting outside for a bit? I want to discuss something with your husband.”

She blinked, hesitant, glancing at me as though unsure. I gave her a soft nod, reassuring, and after a moment she rose quietly and slipped out of the room, closing the door behind her.

Ray’s smile stayed gentle, but his eyes sharpened as he lifted a hand.

“Pay more attention…” His voice dropped slightly, firm, eyes narrowing.

My chest tightened. “P-Pay attention to… what?”

“…to your surroundings.” The sudden seriousness in his gaze made my heart skip.

“S-Surroundings?” I echoed, throat dry.

In an instant his expression brightened again, warm and harmless. “You don’t want to take another fall, right? That would be troublesome.” He chuckled, as if nothing odd had passed between us.

I **** a small laugh, but unease tugged at me.

Ray leaned closer, his voice lowering again. “Don’t ignore the signs… when they show up.”

My breath caught. “S-Signs?”

“…of headaches, dizziness, confusion.” He grinned lightly, tapping my temple. “It may get dangerous... if you ignore them.” His eyes, serious again.

“Y-Yeah, you are right.”I replied, my hands clenching the bedsheet.

Ray straightened, folding his arms. I swallowed hard, not sure if I was just imagining the shift in tone.

“And lastly…” Ray tilted his head, his voice dropping once more. “Strange dreams might come too…”

“Dreams?,” I asked, lifting my eyebrow.

“…it’s normal,” he said quickly, flashing that soft, reassuring smile. “When the brain takes a hit, the mind can play tricks. Vivid, even unsettling dreams.”

For a moment, something in his stare pierced straight through me, and my pulse hammered in my ears. Then he leaned back casually, the air of a friendly neighbor returning in full.

You took quite a fall last night. And… you were also pretty drunk, weren’t you? That combination of **** and head hit—it’s no surprise you can’t remember much. That’s completely normal.

I tried to chuckle, but it came out strained. “So I was just… drunk and clumsy.”

“Anyway,” he said with a light laugh, “follow those and you’ll be just fine.”

I nodded stiffly, unsettled. The words sounded like good advice. So why did they leave me feeling... restless?