Chapter Text
“You should be downstairs with the children,” Sam tries. “It’s Christmas Eve.” It's a feeble protest that Susan ignores, pulling back the coverlet and settling the hot water bottle to Sam's abdomen.
“You're sure you don't need to go to hospital?” Susan pulls the bedclothes up, smoothing the quilt as the heat begins its work. Sam wants to reach up and rub the worry from Susan’s forehead with a gentle thumb.
“The doctor said I needn’t,” she tries to smile. “The pain is just … worse than it used to be.” She closes her eyes. But better now, thanks to you.