Paul had driven Trevor to the hospital and stubbornly refused to leave him. Secretly Trevor was touched, but again felt his resolve not to get too used to Paul’s kindness beginning to crumble.
“No wonder we’re called patients,” Trevor groused as he sat on the made bed, unsure if he should change into pyjamas and get under the blanket.
It was more than an hour before someone showed up to officially admit him, telling him that yes, he could get changed, giving him a God-awful gown that fastened up the back. At least he was able to put on his dressing gown, which covered his exposed arse.
Trevor again told Paul to go home, back to work or his own house to check on the progress of the various repairs. There seemed little point in him just sitting by his bed waiting. But again Paul refused t
