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"I can see it in your eyes."
She frowned. "I could have helped.."
"But that's boring.."
"You definitely want to."
She gestured to him. "This. Your legs. You being hurt."
"But don't you have to leave again tomorrow?"
"You really want to fight your husband? Tsk tsk."
She watched him, her fingers brushing his cheek gently. "Bad things have been happening lately. I can't help but feel they're mostly my fault."
"A little," she admitted, "but I haven't been able to see you much today."
"I believe this one, too."
She looked uncertain. "I'm sorry."
"I know," she said gently. "You show it."
"We aren't fighting. It's rude to do in restaurants."
She brushed back his hair. "I love you.. I'm sorry for getting mad earlier."
She waved it off. "Don't worry about it. It's alright."
He squinted at her. "Stop that."
She looked uncertain, but nodded. "Okay.. Not yet. We can wait."
"You're kind to me," she replied. "Well, you are now."
He squinted at her. "Surely that's wrong. Fighting is bad."
She sighed worriedly, not letting go of his hand. "I'm going to try and get you back into bed, okay?"
