A glance at the clock said I was right. It was nearing sundown. I’d slept a whole damn day away.
The food options were limited to shit that could last years, so I made us each a bowl of beef stew and piled that, the coffee, and some more water onto a tray to carry back into the bedroom.
Steph was sitting up in bed, the blankets pooled around her waist, her hair bed-messy, and a confused line between her brows.
“It’s dark.”
“We slept for twelve hours.”
“Huh,” she said, still a little foggy from sleep.
“I brought food and coffee.”
“Okay,” she said, sliding to the side of the bed and making her way into the bathroom.
“Bring some of the ibuprofen out with you,” I called when the door opened again.
“Great minds,” she said, shaking the bottle as she tiptoed toward the bed.
“How can you hurt everywhere all at once?”
I took the bottle from her hands, opened it, removed the seal, then shook two out into her palm before taking my own.
“Dunno. But this should help a little.”
“Is it infused with magic?” she asked, taking her coffee. “I can’t believe I slept twelve hours. I think the only time I slept twelve hours was when I had a really wicked flu one year. My mom said she was worried I was dying with how much I was sleeping.”
“Think last night was just as taxing on your body as the flu,” I said, passing a bowl toward her when she set her mug back down. “So you need to eat.”
“I need to call Andy and Sammy. They’re probably worried about me. And… God, what if they let themselves into my apartment and see the mess? I need to… wait. Where’s my phone?”
“I don’t know, babe. I don’t think you had it when you were on your knees in the snow. Maybe it fell from your hands when you were running. Your fingers were icy. You might not have even noticed.”
“I guess. But now we have no phone at all.”
“After we eat, I will go and grab a cord. Once I make my calls, if you want to call Andy from it, you can.”
That seemed to calm her down enough to focus on eating, drinking, and caffeinating.
I wasn’t sure if it was the pills, the fluids, or the food, but I was feeling a lot more alive about half an hour later.
“How you feeling?” I asked, taking the empty bowl from her.
“If you can believe this, a little tired,” she admitted with a confused head shake.
“I can believe it. Go back to sleep. Your body wants it, so you need it.”
“Maybe,” she agreed. “What happens now? After you call your… coworkers?”
“Shit gets a fuckuva lot easier.”
Incredibly, though, I suddenly wanted to drag my feet in getting that charging cord.
We were safe.
We were recovering.
We were together.
