She’d fallen asleep on the couch in front of the TV after finishing a cup of tea. “Everything okay?” She leaned into Ryder when he came to sit beside her. He smiled, wrapped his arm around her, and urged her into his lap. With a kiss against her hair, he said, “It is now.” “Definitely,” she said, relaxing against him. Hoping he would not pick up on the slight weirdness that had not diminished since her earlier bout of nausea and vomiting. “How are you feeling?” he asked, dashing her hope. She couldn’t lie to him, but she didn’t want him to worry. Turning in his lap, she straddled his thighs and held his face between her hands. “I was sick again tonight. Had the same strange feeling as last night, but I’m fine now.” His battle to hold back any comment was obvious, and she was grateful for it. As afraid as she was of what was going on in her body, of the fact that she was probably dying, she didn’t want that fear to color the rest of her mortal life.
