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“I’m so sorry, Jude.” She seemed to be messing with his mouth. “I’ve got a pill for you to take. It will stop you from throwing up.”

“Can’t…” He couldn’t take a pill. He would just heave it back up.

“It dissolves in your mouth. You don’t have to swallow it. Can you open up?”

He made an attempt and managed to part his lips. He tasted something in his mouth. He couldn’t swallow, but he didn’t need to. It kind of melted away.

Then Eve left him alone so he could close his mouth again.

It couldn’t have been very long when she was waking him up again.

His head wasn’t any better. Why the hell wouldn’t it stop?

“Jude, sweetie, can you try to take your pill now? The nausea pill should have helped, so hopefully you can keep it down.”

He liked the sound of her voice. He wasn’t sure why. He blinked up at her. She stood next to the bed, leaning over. Her hair was in one long, thick braid that was hanging down over her shoulder. It bothered him. Looked wrong.

He stretched his hand up to touch it. “Don’t like this,” he rasped.

“My hair?” She sounded confused.

“Not… that.”

“The braid?”

“Yes.” He sighed in relief that he was understood. It felt very important.

“I had to pull it back. It was getting in the way. Can you please lift your head and try to swallow this pill? Your head will feel so much better if you can get this down.”

“Ooo…kay.”

It took more strength than he could easily summon, but he managed to get his head off the pillow. She placed the pill in his mouth, so he didn’t have to coordinate that movement. Then she held a glass to his lips, and he took a few small sips, barely enough to swallow down the pill.

He reclined his head again and waited to see if it would come back up.

To his relief, it didn’t.

“Oh thank goodness,” she whispered after a few minutes.

His hair was loose, and some of it was sticking to his face. It was bothering him, so he sighed in relief when Eve brushed it back. Her fingers felt soft. Soothing.

He wanted to tell her that he appreciated it and managed to mumble, “Feels… nice.”

She pulled her hand back then, which was disappointing. But he didn’t want to ask her to keep stroking him.

It felt needy, and he wasn’t like that.

Then the mattress shifted. She must have gone to the other side of the bed and climbed in beside him. She moved near him, settling herself. Then she started to stroke his face and his hair again.

He sighed, relieved she hadn’t wanted to stop after all.

He lay perfectly still for a few minutes, distracted by her light caress. But when his headache eventually intensified again, he shifted restlessly, desperately needing it to get better.

His eyes were swelling with his head. He felt a couple of tears stream out but was too out of it to try to hide them.

“Oh God, please,” he heard himself muttering. Maybe he was speaking to God. Maybe to Eve. Maybe to himself. “I don’t want to do this anymore.”

Eve’s hand grew still. She made more of those gaspy sounds. Then she swiped away the trail of his tears. “I know you don’t. I wish I could make it better.”

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