“I wish I could do something to take away your pain,” he said in a low voice.
“You do. Just by being you.” I’d never spoken truer words.
His eyebrows shot up. Then he dropped his hand from my thigh, looking away. “So, I’m a painkiller now. Paracetamol or ibuprofen?”
I adopted a lighthearted tone. “I’m not sure. Which one has the nausea side effects?”