Chapter 29-A dream-like revelation

Chapter 29: 29-A dream-like revelation

"Don’t start now. I am not worthy of your expensive care."

Aymara felt her heart squeeze in pain. Those words were like sharp blades cutting through her. Her care was far from expensive, as a matter of fact, it was cheap compared to his.

She gave him a small smile. The smile hid the hurt she was feeling, it hid it well.

"But I am worried and my worry doesn’t cost much. Not a single penny."

Nathaniel didn’t respond. His throat tightened unexpectedly, and he focused on the blanket instead of her face.

He didn’t know what to do with her concern, especially when it seemed so sincere. It would have been easier if she had been cold or manipulative. It would have been easier if he could convince himself that she had brought him here for some selfish reason.

Aymara brought the spoon back toward him. "One bite?"

He hesitated. His mind told him to refuse. Nothing about this situation made sense, and accepting food from her felt like surrendering another piece of control. But his body betrayed him with a faint, hollow ache in his stomach, reminding him that he had barely eaten since that morning.

Then, perhaps because he was too weak to argue or because he really did need the food, he finally opened his mouth.

Aymara carefully fed him. He swallowed slowly, surprised by how difficult even that small effort felt.

She waited until he swallowed before offering another spoonful, watching him closely to make sure he didn’t choke or become nauseated. Slowly, the tension in his shoulders eased, though he remained wary of every movement she made.

"This is medicinal porridge," she explained. "It’s made according to the dietary information from your doctor. It’s soft, easy to digest, and shouldn’t upset your stomach."

Nathaniel glanced at the bowl. "You prepared this?"

"Yes."

"And the buns?" He moved on to the next topic to avoid reacting to the fact that she cooked for him.

That information sparked a candle of hope in his heart, one that had gone out a long time ago.

"They are vegetable buns and are very healthy for you."

The detail she put into such a small meal started to undo the knots in his heart. ’Nathaniel, you are hopeless,’ he thought inside.

Presenting a cold and indifferent attitude outward, he moved on. "The milk?"

"It’s warm... Just the way you like it," Aymara answered as though it was a national verbal exam and every answer would determine her future.

Nathaniel looked at her suspiciously, though the edge in his expression had softened.

"And the medicine?"

Aymara pointed toward the small container on the tray. "The doctor said you said take it after you finish eating."

Nathaniel was silent for a moment. He studied the food, then her face, as if trying to find some hidden motive. The details were too specific to be accidental.

She knew what he could eat, what he couldn’t, and how to care for him when he was too sick to care for himself. It hurt to see the care she put in for him, knowing that she had once chosen to go far away from him.

"You still remember everything."

Aymara’s hand paused. "What?"

"My diet... what I can eat and what I can’t..." His voice was quieter now, and the question carried more weight than he intended.

Her heart tightened. "Of course I remember."

Nathaniel looked away. A strange pressure gathered in his chest, and he couldn’t tell whether it came from anger, exhaustion, or something else.

Six years had passed since they had been close, yet she still remembered details he had assumed she had forgotten.

Aymara continued feeding him, one spoonful at a time. Neither of them spoke for several minutes. The silence was not comfortable, but it was no longer hostile either. It settled between them like something fragile, easily broken by the wrong question or the wrong expression.

When the bowl was half empty, Nathaniel finally asked, "Why am I here?"

Aymara took a breath. She had known the question was coming, but knowing did not make answering it easier.

"Because something terrible is about to happen and I don’t want you caught up in it."

His eyes sharpened, but he didn’t interrupt immediately. The certainty in her voice unsettled him more than the words themselves. "What bad thing?"

"The apocalypse..."

Silence filled the room. Nathaniel stared at her, waiting for the punchline or the explanation that would make the statement less absurd coming from her. A short, disbelieving laugh caught in his throat and died there when he realized she wasn’t joking which meant that she had prior knowledge and had made preparations.

Aymara continued before he could interrupt. "A series of massive tsunamis will hit the coastal cities tomorrow. There will be extreme storms, flooding, power failures, supply shortages, and eventually..."

She hesitated, her fingers tightening around the spoon. "Mutated creatures will surface."

Nathaniel’s expression became strange. His first instinct was to dismiss it, at least the parts about mutated beasts but the words lodged in his mind with uncomfortable persistence.

She had not said them dramatically, nor had she delivered them with the excitement of someone telling a wild story. She sounded afraid.

"You expect me to believe mutants will invade the world?"

"I know it sounds ridiculous."

"Then why are you telling me if you know how it sounds?"

"Because it’s true, all of it is," She put the spoon down and folded her hands in her lap. "I’ve been preparing for days."

Nathaniel looked around the room again. The luxurious furniture, the medical equipment, the thick reinforced windows, and the unfamiliar technology had seemed excessive when he first woke up.

Now, under the weight of her explanation, everything suddenly looked different. His gaze lingered on the sealed windows and the equipment arranged within easy reach. Until now, he had treated them as signs of an expensive ship. Now they seemed deliberate, almost defensive.

"You built this?"

"I bought the cruise and stocked up on supplies."

Nathaniel’s eyebrows rose. "Why?"

"Because I knew what was coming."

"How did you know?"

He badly wished to know. It took him months to see the signs and alot of math to calculate it’s arrival and prepare and yet she just knew. He was curious how she came about that knowledge.

Aymara hesitated. This was the part she couldn’t explain. She could not tell him that she had lived through the disaster, that she had watched the world collapse, or that she had died before waking up years earlier with a second chance. Even if he believed her, the truth would only make the situation more frightening.

"I..." She looked down at her hands. "I had a warning."

Nathaniel studied her face. He wanted to scoff again, but the tremor in her fingers made the response catch in his throat.

"What kind of warning?"

"I had a revelation in my dream," she lied, forgetting her habit of biting her lower lip when she lied. Seeing her bite her lip, Nathaniel knew that wasn’t the truth.

He stared at her. "A dream?"

Aymara nodded. "I saw everything happen in the dream."

She didn’t tell him that it had been more than a dream. She had lived it, suffered through it, and died in it. The memories were not vague images or fragments from sleep; they were scars carved into every part of her mind.

"I saw the cities disappear. I saw people fighting over food and water. I saw ships destroyed by storms. I saw people turning against each other," her voice lowered. "And I saw you."

Nathaniel’s expression changed. The room seemed to grow colder around him. "You saw me?"

Aymara nodded. "I saw what happened to you."

She swallowed, forcing herself to continue despite the pain tightening in her chest. "I couldn’t let it happen again."