Page 27 of Byte

I got the water started for her while she gathered her clothes and toiletries. When she was ready, I waited outside while she undressed and stepped into the shower. “You can come in,” she called out.

She’d only been in there for a few minutes when her hand shot out from behind the curtain. “Towel, now,” she demanded as the water shut off.

“What’s wrong?” I asked as I placed a towel in her hand.

“You were right,” she admitted and shoved the shower curtain to the side. Seconds later, her towel-clad body fellagainst mine. I wrapped my arms around her to hold her up as her head rested against my chest.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

Instead of answering me, her big blue eyes filled with tears. “Gabby,” I said quietly. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“I feel awful,” she cried. “I thought a shower would make me feel better, but I can’t even wash my hair.”

I helped her walk to the edge of the bed and sit down. “Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”

I rushed out of the room before she could argue and returned with a bathrobe I’d received as a Christmas gift and had never worn. “Put this on.”

“What are you doing?”

“Making you feel better,” I said cryptically.

Once she had the robe on, I scooped her into my arms and carried her downstairs to the kitchen, where I placed her on the countertop by the sink.

“Seriously, Byte, what are you doing?”

“You’ll see. Do you think you can stay there without falling off?”

She narrowed her eyes. “Yes, I think I can manage that.”

I ran back upstairs to get a couple of towels as well as her shampoo and conditioner. Her eyes widened in surprise when she saw what I was carrying.

“Byte—” she started.

“If washing your hair will make you feel better, that’s what we’re going to do,” I said and helped her lie back so her hair was in the sink. “Let me know if the water’s too hot.”

“It’s perfect,” she said and sighed when I started to work the shampoo through her long, dark hair. I was surprised by how thick it was and even more surprised at how long it took to rinse all the suds out.

Once I finished rinsing the conditioner, I wrapped her hair in a towel and nudged her to sit up. She jolted, and her eyes shot open. I couldn’t help but laugh. “Did you fall asleep?”

“What? No, of course not,” she lied.

“Yes, you did,” I said and helped her sit up.

“You can’t hold it against me. I’m sick,” she said and wrapped her arms around me. With her head resting on my shoulder, I felt it more than I heard it when she whispered, “Thank you.”

9

GABBY

By Thursday, I was much better. I still had a nasty cough, but my fever was completely gone, and I could move around without feeling like I was going to collapse. I had even managed to take a shower and wash my hair by myself.

“When do we need to head back to your place?” Byte asked over breakfast.

“Maybe around noon?” I suggested. “I have to go by Employee Health and get clearance so I can work tomorrow. Then I need to do laundry and probably make a grocery run.”

“We can leave whenever you’re ready. Just let me know.”

I showered and made myself look as presentable as possible. I was still paler than usual, but I no longer looked like I was knocking on death’s door. Once I was ready, I made my way downstairs, carrying the two bags with my belongings.

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