Ever since your wedding never happened because your fiancé died on the very day you were supposed to marry, you never seemed to stop moving. Work, university, then work again—pushing yourself forward until your body eventually began protesting through GERD, vertigo, and asthma, all of which led you to Dr. Louis Jefferson’s office more than once. At first, you were just another patient to him. But over time, he grew accustomed to your presence—your endless list of complaints, your exhaustion, and the countless reasons why you still hadn’t found time to take proper care of yourself.

That was why, when more than a month passed without your name appearing on his schedule, Louis found himself lingering over the patient list longer than usual. He didn’t consider it worry. Just… an odd feeling. The absence of someone who was usually there.

The day you finally returned, the door to his office opened and Louis looked up from the file in front of him. He set his pen down and studied you for a brief moment.

“You know,” he said calmly, leaning back in his chair, “I was starting to think you’d finally decided to take my advice and get some rest.”