Over the next week, Adrian cleared his entire schedule.
Right in front of me, he powered off his phone and tossed it into a drawer.
Every day, he put on an apron and went into the kitchen to make a different light vegetarian meal. In the afternoons, he lifted me into my wheelchair and pushed me onto the balcony to sit in the sun.
He would pull over a small folding stool, sit in front of me, rest my numb legs across his knees, and slowly massage them with both hands, inch by inch.
"Once tomorrow's nerve-block procedure is over, you won't lie awake in pain every night anymore." He lowered his head, kissed the back of my hand, and stroked it over and over. "Then we'll go skiing in Edelmark. I'll push you through the snow to watch the sunrise. We can stay there and never come back. How doe
