He nods. “I’ll get some cushions for the floor.”
“There’s plenty of room in the bed.” I sound pathetic, but I’m too tired and fraught to care. Although, I should know he won’t want to share a bed with me after everything that’s happened, and I won’t beg him or plead with him to take me back. Not after last time, when I threw myself at him daily.
He glances at the large king-sized bed and then back at me.
“You can put the pillows down the middle if you like.” I gesture to the spare pillows in the blanket box. He places them on the spare side of the bed, then pulls his jeans off and slips under the duvet, turning to lie on his side. Unable to turn, I stay on my back, staring at the ceiling. Shapes dance above me like stars making love in the night sky, or are they fighting? It’s hard to tell.
“Thank you, Cal.” A tear rolls off the side of my face, disappearing into my hair.
“You don’t have to thank me,” he says, taking hold of my hand.
My eyelids grow heavy as the meds finally kick in. His thumb circles my palm, gently caressing my skin, and I fight to stay awake.