"Mynah, my love," Jerrick's voice was tender as he enveloped her in a warm embrace. "Are you feeling better?"
She nodded, the weight of the evening's events pressing her head against his chest. "I am. It's just... a lot on my mind."
He kissed the top of her head, his lips lingering as if to offer some of his strength. Leading her to the settee by the fireplace, he urged gently, "Tell me everything. What happened this evening? What scared you? Surely it was not just that man, was it?"
"Have you had dinner? Should I bring something for you?" Jessamyn's voice was soft, a mix of concern and affection.
Jerrick wasn't in the mood to eat, but he could see the worry etched in her eyes. She wouldn't open up if she thought he wasn't well. It was the way she loved—selflessly, always putting him first.
