Chapter 5: Back Home

Juan didn’t stay in the house long after Belle went inside. He waited a few minutes, then got in his car and drove back to the hospital. The sun had started to set, and the streets were busy, but he barely noticed. His head felt full. The conversation with Belle was still playing through his mind, but he pushed it aside.

Arya was being discharged tonight.

He parked outside and walked in through the front entrance. The nurse at the reception gave him a tired smile and pointed toward the hallway. He nodded and walked through.

When he stepped into Arya’s room, she was already sitting in the wheelchair, her hands in her lap, her face pale. A nurse was checking the clipboard by the bed. Arya didn’t look at him right away. She just kept staring at the floor until the nurse left the room.

“You ready?” he asked, walking closer.

She looked up and gave a small nod. Her lips were dry, and her eyes looked dull. She didn’t speak.

He reached for the handles of the wheelchair and pushed her out of the room. The hall smelled like disinfectant, and someone was talking loudly on the phone near the elevators. Arya didn’t say anything the whole way down. He didn’t either.

When they got to the car, he opened the passenger side and helped her in. She moved slowly, wincing a little as she settled into the seat. He folded the wheelchair and put it in the trunk, then got in beside her.

The ride back was quiet.

When they got to the house, the lights were already on. Someone had opened the front door, and for a second, Juan thought maybe the staff had done it. But when he got closer, he saw Belle standing in the hallway.

She was smiling.

“Welcome home,” she said, walking forward.

Arya blinked. She looked at Juan, then back at Belle, her mouth parting a little. “Hi,” she said quietly.

Belle stepped aside so Juan could wheel Arya inside. The hallway had been cleaned, and there were small flower vases placed on the table near the staircase. A light scent filled the air, something like lavender. The house didn’t usually smell like anything.

Juan didn’t speak. He just wheeled Arya into the living room. Belle followed behind.

“There’s soup on the table,” Belle said, brushing her hair behind her ear. “It’s still warm. I didn’t know if you’d be hungry, but I figured you might want something light.”

Arya turned her head slowly. “You made soup?”

Belle nodded. “I did. Just something simple. Chicken and rice."

Arya looked like she wanted to say something else but didn’t. She just looked at Juan, then back at Belle. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” Belle said, walking into the kitchen.

Juan moved Arya closer to the dining table. She didn’t touch the food right away. She looked at the bowl, then at the spoon beside it, then at Belle who was now pouring a glass of water.

Belle walked back over and placed the glass in front of her. “You should eat,” she said, smoothing down the front of her shirt. “It’s not the best thing I’ve ever made becauzd I haven't been in the kitchen in forever, but it’s okay.”

Arya still looked confused. “Why are you being nice?”

She has to ask because Belle not being a bitch to her or throwing a tantrum was very strange to her. She could not help but wonder what the ulterior motive behind it was.

Belle blinked. “What?”

Arya’s brows pulled together. She looked tired and confused. “I don’t get it.”

“I’m just trying to make you feel comfortable,” Belle said, brushing her hands on her pants. “You just got back. You’re still not well. It felt like the right thing to do.”

Arya looked back at the soup. She picked up the spoon and stirred it gently. Juan moved away and sat down on the other couch, resting his hands on his knees.

Belle stood for a few seconds, then walked to the window and pulled the curtain aside. “It’s nice out,” she said, looking outside. “Cooler than it’s been all week.”

Arya took a small spoonful of the soup and swallowed it. “I might go out later,” she said softly.

Belle turned. “I can wheel you.”

Arya paused again, her spoon hovering near the bowl. “You want to?”

“Sure,” Belle said. “If you want fresh air, I’ll come with you. Juan probably has work to do, anyway.”

Juan didn’t look up.

Arya stared at Belle for a long moment. She set the spoon down slowly. “Okay.”

Belle nodded, then glanced at the clock. “We’ll go after dinner. I’ll grab your jacket.”

Arya didn’t reply. She just sat there quietly, looking at the table.

Juan got up and walked out of the room.

Belle stayed by the window, arms crossed lightly, watching the yard. The street lights had come on, and the sky outside had turned darker. Arya leaned back in the wheelchair and closed her eyes, resting her head against the cushion.

Neither of them spoke for a while.

"I have to admit this is weird," Arya said. "How do I know you're not up to something."

"Jeez," she rolled her eyes. "Is it a crime to be nice? Just tAke it as it is."

"I'm not trying to pick a fight with you," Arya heaved, wincing a little. "It just felt weird, that's why."

"Yeah, well get over it," she snorted. "Forget about the past. Act like you didn't know me before now, jeez. Don't make this already more awkward than it is."

"Did Juan put you up to this?" She asked Belle.

"No, he did not. Jeez Arya, drop it and let's start over."

"Forgive me for preferring a mean you," Arya scoffed, an amused smile playing on her lips.