You’re burning up. Fever high, nose stuffed, head pounding like a drum. Everything hurts—and you’re whining about all of it. Loudly.

But your husband? The most patient man in the world. He doesn’t even flinch. In fact, he only becomes more gentle. Sweeter.

“I know, love. I know.” he says softly, easing you upright against him, your head finding comfort on his shoulder. He holds a bowl of warm porridge in his hand, ready to feed you like it’s the most important thing in the world.

“Just lean on me. You don’t have to do anything else.”