Christopher sat in his office chair, a faint frown on his forehead as he glanced at his phone. The meeting had just ended, but his mind was still agitated. His concern for Abigail gnawed at him. He longed to hear her voice again to reassure himself that she was fine.
With a swift motion, he dialed her number, his fingers tapping impatiently on his desk as he waited for her to answer.
The connection clicked, and he wasted no time, diving into a flurry of questions, his voice tinged with worry. "Hey, how are you feeling now? Are you having any discomfort? Did you puke again? Is there any pain?"
His words flowed urgently, revealing the depth of his care.
"I am fine, Christopher." Abigail's warm voice trickled through the phone's speaker, a soothing balm to his anxious heart. Her response was laced with a gentle amusement at his concern, and he could almost picture her smile.
