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“I’ll get it from here,” I say, taking the loofah from his hands. He watches me as I wash the rest of my body and then helps me from the shower when I’m finished. He wraps me in a fluffy robe – also new, I note, and carries me back to the bed.
“That was exhausting,” I say.
He looks at me sympathetically. “Let’s get you some food and then you can go to bed.”
I nod. He hands me a tote he’s made with my toiletries – my hairbrush and skincare products I use regularly. I never realized that he was paying enough attention to know what I’d need. He sets a clean set of clothes on the bed and then leaves. While he’s gone, I dress and brush my hair. He returns with a tray of food. He pulls a tray table from behind the nightstand – another new addition to my apartment. He sets the tray beside me on the little table and leaves. He returns with his own tray and sets up another tray table.
“Do you want to watch something?” he asks.
“Not right now,” I say. “I’m too tired.”
He nods. “Okay, we’ll just eat.”
He’s ordered food from my favorite Thai place. I study the plate – it’s missing one of my favorite dishes. Before I can ask, he says, “You can’t have spicy food. It can induce labor.”
I look up at him, surprised. He holds up his hands – like don’t shoot the messenger. “It’s a real thing,” he says. “Also, I figured it might give you indigestion, especially because you aren’t able to move around after eating.”
He’s spot on. I can’t believe he’s put this much thought into it.
“It’s perfect. Thank you. Honestly, anything would be better than that hospital food.”
He chuckles. “Yeah. That was rough.”
I take a big bite of the noodles and groan. “Oh my god, that’s amazing.”
After we eat, he clears away the trays and stays in the kitchen for a few minutes. I open one of the books he’s put on the nightstand and start reading. I’m so tired, but my brain is going a mile a minute. I need to settle myself before trying to sleep. When he comes back into the room, he pulls a sleeping bag out of the closet and starts unrolling it. I set my book down on my lap.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“Sleeping on the floor and don’t fight with me about it. I know you don’t really want me around, but if something happens, every second counts. My apartment is too far, even the couch is too damn far. I need to be in here with you.”
I’m actually not going to argue with him about that, but I am going to argue with him about the sleeping bag.
“You aren’t sleeping on the floor,” I say.
He sighs and closes his eyes. “Maggie, I’m not budging on this.”
I hold up my hand for him to stop. “No, Declan, you can sleep in here, but not on the floor.”
His eyes jerk up in surprise.
“Sleep on the bed with me.”
He doesn’t move.
“It’s not like we haven’t shared a bed.” I pat the other side of the bed and nudge my head that direction.
He still doesn’t move.
“Declan, look at this ridiculous pillow I’m going to sleep with. I don’t think either of us could touch each other if we tried over this thing.”
He laughs. “Good point.”
“Come on. I’m not going to be able to relax if you’re on the floor.”
He rolls the sleeping bag back up and puts it in the closet. “Okay, if you’re sure.”
“I am.” I open the book and start reading again.
