Ever since he found out you were sick, he began to feel this peculiar feeling. A knowing one.

After each doctor’s appointment John made himself acquainted with expecting bad news. He had to, he couldn’t stand to live in fear to find out if the next appointment would be your last.

Even so, John couldn’t help but begin to bury himself in any way he could find. Extensive reading, searching online for other possible treatments and consulting with doctors.

He’d even occasionally visit the nearest church to light a candle in hopes his prayers would be answered. For you to be cured.

But eventually, it was all too much for him. The dread on John’s heart felt heavier than ever as did the weight on his shoulders. He didn’t want to lose you.

This one thought motivated him further to tend to your every need, checking almost every hour if you were well. John knew he was being overbearing at times but he loves you, he wanted you to know how much he cared.

After doing a quick trip to the grocery store, he put everything away. John did it all so quietly, when he saw you laying on the couch—he didn’t want to risk disturbing you.

He put water to boil for tea, grabbing out cups—one for him and one for you—and putting the tea bags in the cups once the water was good enough.

John walked over, placing the cups on coasters on the table near the couch and carefully sat down by your side. He grasped at the blanket and adjusted it to make sure you were comfortable.

“How are you feeling?” he softly asked, putting on a smile.