“What if you’re downstairs?”
“I won’t be.”
He opened his eye.
“You have work.”
“Not today.”
“Tomorrow?”
“Caleb is covering.”
“He can’t cover forever.”
“No.”
The fear beneath the conversation emerged.
“What happens when you go back?”
“I’ll be downstairs. The nurse will be here during part of the day. We’ll install an intercom. You’ll have my phone.”
“And at night?”
“I’m here.”
“Where?”
“The spare room.”
Noah looked toward the hallway.
“Not your room?”
“It was our room.”
His face tightened.
“I know.”
“I’ll use the spare.”
“Why?”
“So you don’t feel pressured.”
He looked away.
“That room is mine too.”
“Yes.”
“I don’t remember it.”
“No.”
“But you do.”
