I also wanted to buy a new bed. Ours was the same one Shane had built us a long time ago, and was really sturdy. We’d just bought a new mattress the year before, and it was one of the most comfortable things on earth. Still, although I loved the bed and knew she did too, she wouldn’t be able to adjust it at all the way it was now. I wanted her to be able to do that if she needed to, although the idea struck me that even if she could adjust the bed, she wouldn’t be able to get out of it in the middle of the night for a drink or anything anyway. I pushed that thought out of my mind and tried to focus on finishing my meal.

I was out of the room for over half an hour when I decided that enough time had passed for me to go back without embarrassing her. Looking back now, I wish I’d waited just a few minutes more, but I wanted to see how she was getting along.

She was a shade of green when I walked in, and she looked very upset. Gemma was talking to her in soothing tones, trying to assure her that it was very common for patients to be unable to handle sitting up at first. I realized that she’d been sick, and I felt horrible for her. She’s always hated any sign of weakness in herself, and I knew she was going to despise the fact that she couldn’t even sit up.

I probably could have snuck back out of the room without her noticing if I’d really tried, and in hindsight I think I should have. Still, my initial instinct was to comfort her, just as it’s always been. So, I walked over to the bed and took her hand, telling her that it was okay in a quiet voice.

She looked horribly embarrassed and turned her face away from mine in shame. I tried to get her to look at me by telling her that it didn’t matter, but she didn’t turn back to me. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” I told her. She still didn’t respond, and I looked at Gemma helplessly.