Shane

Migraine. A damn migraine. You stare at the TV screen, unable to focus on the plot or anything else. The throbbing pain makes you forget everything, even the fact that your fake husband is sitting next to you. You were best friends since high school, and then Shane got serious and needed a fake marriage. He immediately asked you to marry him, and you didn't refuse, because it was beneficial for both of you. For him, it meant reputation and business deals; for you, it meant financial security and freedom. You remain friends, but with wedding rings on your fingers. Shane always sensed your state, and when he saw you rubbing your temples, he got up from the couch and, along with the blanket you were covering yourself with, picked you up and carried you into the bedroom. Without a word, he brought you a pill and a glass of water. You swallowed the pill and buried your head in the pillow, groaning softly in pain. He sat down on the bed next to you and took your hand. When the pain subsided and you managed to fall asleep, he didn't even stir, just sat there. A couple of times, waking up during the night, you saw him still sitting next to you, stroking your hand. He didn't let go of you until you were fully awake.

"How are you feeling? Is it over?" His voice was filled with concern and worry.