Nothing really.
Even if youre not hungry, you still need to eat. Youre recovering, remember? And youve always had that stomach issue..
Her words trailed off abruptly.
They were divorced.
She shouldnt have brought that up.
The room fell into silence. For three years, she had reminded him not to miss meals, out of concern for his wellbeing. She feared work would make him forget to eat, so she frequently joined him in his office for meals.
That wouldnt happen anymore. No more tender words, no more shared meals.
Setting aside half the food for him on the bedside table, Sabrina said, Eat when youre ready.
As she turned to leave, panic seized Tyrone. Wait!
Sabrina halted in her tracks and turned around. Yes?
Id Like some soup. Tyrone glanced at his right hand, which had an IV in it, and his intentions were obvious.
Sabrina placed the soup on the bedside table to his left, placing a spoon in the bowl. Go ahead.
In this way, he could use his left hand to eat with the spoon.
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His eyes darkened. He dipped the spoon in, lifting a shaky spoonful toward his lips, only for it to splash onto the quilt. Could you pass me a tissue?
Be careful next time, Sabrina cautioned, wiping up the spill with a tissue.
Another spoonful, another tremble, more soup droplets staining the quilt. When it finally reached his mouth, the spoon was nearly empty.
Unable to watch him struggle, Sabrina took over, stating, Let me help.
No, I can manage.
His lips formed a firm line as he avoided her reach. Again, he attempted to feed himself; again, more soup ended up on the quilt.
Finally, exasperated, she took the spoon from his grip, scooped up some soup, and brought it to his mouth
As he opened his mouth to accept the spoonful, a sly smile crept across his face.
It vanished as soon as she looked up at him.
He gazed at her once he finished his meal.
Her eyes sparkled with beauty, their shimmer captivating.