“I need food, husband. As you won’t let me leave your side, even when you’re asleep, you have to get up and come with me.”
“What?” He shakes his head sitting up; my words haven’t sunk in yet. I smooth his dark hair away from his eyes; he catches my hand, kisses my wrist as he yawns hard enough his jaw cracks.
“I said I’m hungry. I tried to get up and leave you sleep, but you were determined to keep me in bed, so I had to wake you.” He nods, as he finally understands. He says nothing, getting up and putting his pants back on, his hands sluggish and fumbling, his hair a tangled mess. I grin, despite myself, at the picture he makes, perfect in all of his imperfection. He stops, looking at me in confusion.
“Aren’t you getting up? I thought you were hungry.” The sleep is thick in his throat,
