“May I come in? I have the hot pack for your knee,” he said, approaching the bed. “I had wrapped it to give it more stability. Why not just wrap it again? At least I’d be able to make it to the bathroom by myself.” She looked askance at him. “Need to get the swelling down first. Then we can think about wrapping it.” He turned back the covers and gently placed the warm, moist pack on the bruised and swollen joint. Her sharp intake of breath and the jerk of her body had his head whipping up to study her face. He could see the pain etched on it. Not wrapping it any time soon. Not giving her a chance to slip away. She’s just stubborn enough to try. He could see how tense she was. She held her left arm cradled in her right hand. Tears threatened to break loose, adding a shimmer to the bright blue eyes. He needed her to relax. Hard to do when her side and shoulder probably ached and burned and her knee throbbed.
