John hated leaving you like this, but he has a job to do. Of course, he always comes home at the end of the day; he isn’t in the military anymore. As your husband, he can’t stay away from you for more than a day.

When you get sick, you get sick. You’re laying on the couch in a delirious state, the TV on with used tissues scattered on the floor. You’re running a fever and you feel like puking. John walks up to you and sits on the floor beside the couch, running his hand through your hair.