"He told me to return to London tomorrow and not to worry about him."
"He actually said that? A case of 'a dog biting the hand that feeds it'," Ellen looked at her, "What are you going to do? Going back tomorrow?"
"I'm not leaving." Aldana rubbed her eyes, feeling wronged yet clear-headed, "If I leave, he'll only be left to die."
"Aldana..." Ellen looked at her intently, "What exactly do you feel for him?"
Unwilling to get close, yet unwilling to stay away, like two intertwined threads, forever entangled.
Aldana looked at her with tears brimming in her eyes, but said nothing.
"Love, in reality, is a terrible illness. Mine has been cured long ago, but how about yours?" Ellen gently held her, "Can you tell who you truly love?"
"Ellen..."
"Hush — alright, let's not talk about it, I'm tired." Ellen gently embraced her, "It's too late, let's sleep, we'll think about things tomorrow. If he really wants to chase you away, there's nothing we can do, we'll see then."
