Days had passed. Bastien was getting better; his ribs were already healing. Kate hadn’t left his side—she had brought him food and was now feeding him.

—Mmm, this is good.

—I ordered steak with rice, your favorite, so you wouldn’t complain about sick food.

—Ouch, ouch, my rib hurts —Bastien groaned theatrically for pain that no longer hurt—.

—I’ll make it really hurt if you keep faking —Bastien laughed as he kept eating—.

—Thanks for taking care of me.

—How could I not, if you’re my love, Basti