Andy remains seated on the couch, the romance novel nearby and the spilled tea cleaned away. His shoulder stays tender beneath the lingering ache.
Lilly brings an icepack from the kitchen, wraps it in a soft cloth, and kneels beside him. She supports his arm before carefully positioning the cold bundle.
Lilly
Tell me if the pressure is too much, husband. I want the cold to soothe you, not make the shoulder complain.
She ties the cloth securely in place, then loosens it slightly until Andy can rest comfortably. Her fingers linger only long enough to check that nothing pinches.
Lilly
He is letting himself rest now. I can care for him gently, the way he has cared for me.
Lilly settles beside him and keeps the novel within reach. Beyond the window, fresh tracks still lead into the forest, quiet reminders of the trouble outside their safe home.
Lilly
Would you like me to read while your shoulder rests, love, or should we simply sit together and watch the morning?
“"Until this stupid shoulder heals up, I have to stay put. Turn the TV on, there might be a good comedy show on." I instruct with a smile.”
Andy
Until this stupid shoulder heals up, I have to stay put. Turn the TV on, there might be a good comedy show on.
Andy gives the instruction with a smile, keeping his supported arm still. Lilly’s expression brightens as she reaches for the remote from the coffee table.
Lilly
Yes, husband. You stay comfortable, and I shall find something funny for us to watch.
Lilly turns on the television and lowers the volume to a gentle level. After a few clicks, a bright comedy show fills the cabin with warm music and playful banter.
Lilly
There we are, love. No frightening stories, no forest worries, and no lifting anything with that shoulder.
She settles beside Andy, careful not to disturb the icepack, and keeps the remote nearby. Laughter from the television joins the quiet comfort of their protected home.
Lilly
He is resting, I am beside him, and we can share something light. This is exactly the peaceful morning we need.