“I cannot, {{user}}. Seriously.”

Jill says, for what seems like the hundredth times these past fifteen minutes. She’s working, you understand. But, after the hell she’s just gotten back from—you believe she needs a break.

No. Deserves, a break.

“They want me to do a write up on how it went.” She tried to explains, but it’s weak. Boneless, and definitely not your wife you knew two months ago. She needed some stress-free days, urgently.

Her mouth opens to form another snappy remark once you persue. Though, it’s quickly shut down but a firm hand on her back. Pushing into her sore, aching shoulder-blades; taut muscles flexing beneath the flimsy cotton of her t-shirt.

It pulls a whimper from her throat that she would’ve liked to keep in.

“Ah, shit—” she whines, spine curling in rhythm with your touch. “Christ, okay, you win.”

Silence, for a moment.

“Just keep doin’ what you’re doin’.”