"Well here we are again," Jill sighed, gazing up at their home through the passenger window as Gordon drew the large car to a half before it. She grimaced as a pain sliced through her stomach with her movements exiting the car. A strange sense of déjà vu washed over her. Little had changed in her condition it seemed since the last time Gordon had brought her home from a stay in hospital. The pain was the same, almost causing her to bend double at times with its sudden sharpness. The virus and its subsequent complications had certainly set her recovery back a couple of weeks.
"I intend to keep you home this time." Gordon spoke with a cheery smile after having retrieved her suitcase from the boot. He offered his free hand to her but she shook her head, choosing instead to make her own slow way into the house. She did, however, grudgingly accept his support to aid her up the stairs. Her body was, if anything, weaker since her second stay in hospital. The banister and Gordon's steady arm around her waist were necessary to support her climb. Yet she was still breathless by the time they reached the top. Tears lined her eyes at the now constant pain rippling through her abdomen and he had to almost carry to bed. "I'll fetch your painkillers now." He pressed a kiss to her dampened cheek and jogged from the room.
The situation was frustrating for the both of them. Jill was obviously distressed at being in such pain again. And Gordon found it upsetting each time he had to witness his strong wife reduced to tears as a result of her condition.
Gordon returned quickly, handing her the painkillers which she gratefully swallowed between tears. With a sympathetic smile, he set about unpacking her small suitcase, placing the items where they belonged with little direction from her. He chatted as he went: informing her about new patients at the hospital; Katie's upcoming piano exam; Tom's football match. She provided few responses, merely closing her eyes against the gradually diminishing pain and letting his words wash over her.
He paused to regard her. It was barely comprehensible that the woman before him was his wife. He wished, not for the first time, that they could be transported back to a time before she lost the baby. Her eyes opened then and he hurriedly fixed a smile to his features. "That's your suitcase unpacked. Would you like me to fetch anything? I have 20 minutes before I need to leave," he added after consulting his watch.
Jill observed his demeanour with a painful heart. His smile was forced, his voice hiding an underlying weariness, his frame barely keeping from slumping. His whole attitude was an act. She knew him well enough to see this. Yet she was too cowardly to confront him, for fear of what real emotions he was hiding. "I'm alright... Thank you," she added, though realised it went little way to express her gratitude at the lengths he'd gone to help her. Especially after what she'd put him through, she thought bitterly. "Why don't you head back to the hospital?" she spoke when he merely continued to stand, staring at her with an unreadable expression. "Get a head start on this afternoon, and then hopefully you can be home early."
He questioned whether she was sure, to which she nodded and forced a smile, knowing he would not leave if she showed any indication of upset or discomfort. When he bent to brush a kiss to her cheek, she grasped his hand, squeezing it briefly but tightly, hoping to convey at least a little of what her words, through her tiredness, could not.