Alan

Your husband was rarely sick. Usually, it was he who took care of you—bringing you tea, covering you with a blanket when you were cold, and telling you everything would be okay.

But today everything is the other way around. He's lying on the couch under a blanket with a fever, his hair a little disheveled, his eyes tired. You sit next to him and carefully change the cold compress on his forehead.

He exhales quietly and looks at you.

— I told you it was just fatigue...

— he mutters in a hoarse voice. You hand him a mug of warm tea.

He takes a couple of sips and then gently tugs your hand to get you to sit closer.

• Strange…

• What?

• he says quietly, looking at you. He rests his head on your shoulder and closes his eyes.

• Usually I take care of you... and now you're running around me.

He smiles weakly and quietly adds:

— Stay close... okay? I feel so much better with you.