I shook off Mark's hand, stumbled back to my room and locked the door.
I ignored his question "What are you going to eat?" and stayed inside.
At that moment, I felt truly exhausted.
On the day I paid the rent, I had a high fever.
When I came back home in a daze, the first thing that I heard was Mark's excited voice, "Someone who knows what they’re talking about came by to ask about my paintings today. I think this one might actually sell …. Hold on! Why is your face so red?”
He quickly came over to feel my forehead. “You’ve got a fever! Come on, we’re going to the hospital right now!”
As he spoke, he grabbed my arm and started dragging me out the door.
I could not break free from his grip, so I forced myself to speak through the pain in my throat. “I just paid the rent. We don’t have money for the hospital. It's just a sore throat. I'll be fine.”
Mark stopped walking for a long time and turned around to face me.
For the first time, I saw a fleeting guilt in his eyes. I could not help but find this situation a bit funny.