Where You Are

Windsor

Jesse

When I woke up again, it was pitch dark and I had the strangest feeling like I'd been asleep for years. My mouth was dry and I could smell the old sweat on my body. I groaned and reached for my mobile to check the time.

'Birgitta?' I exclaimed when I found her familiar body in bed next to me before I could reach my mobile.

'Wha—?' She groaned and stretched. 'How are you feeling?'

'Er...' there was an interesting question. 'Like I've just been run over by a lorry.'

She chuckled.

'I'm not surprised,' she said. 'You're pretty funny when you're sick,' she rolled over to face me and propped her head up on her hand, looking at me.

'How d'you mean?' I asked, trying to recall something, anything. I could hardly even remember picking her up from the airport. How long ago had that been?

'Your mom said you had crazy fever dreams when you were a kid,' she went on. 'You kept asking me to check on the baby.'

'What baby?' I asked.

'I don't know!' She laughed.

Then she reached out and put the back of her hand to my forehead.

'You're not as hot as you were,' she said.

'Gee, thanks,' I grimaced.

'I mean temperature-wise!' She rolled her eyes. 'Now go back to bed, it's the middle of the night and Petra was over earlier with a couple bottles of wine, so I'm still a bit drunk.'

'Was she?' I asked incredulously.

'Yeah, you slept right through it all!' She chuckled.

'I'm sad I missed you being drunk,' I groaned.

'There will be other times,' she replied.

'You promise?' I asked.

'Yeah, definitely,' I could hear the grin in her voice.

I reached for her, wrapping my arms around the small of her back and holding her close to me, just the way I liked it. My favourite way to sleep.

Birgitta

I woke up alone the following morning and with a dull headache. I groaned and rolled over to check the time. It was still early, only about eight o'clock, but Jesse was gone.

I sat up and stretched, wanting to at least find out where he was in case he was getting sick again.

He wasn't hard to find. He was in the living room, laying on the couch in front of the TV. His eyes were glazed over like he wasn't really watching what was playing, and it took him a minute to realize I was there.

'How long have you been up?' I asked him.

'Dunno,' he said, trying to sit up a bit. He reached for the remote and switched the TV off. 'Come here.'

I smiled and joined him on the couch, allowing him to pull me down to lay beside him. He was still warm, but not as much as he had been the day before.

'I don't feel very well,' he admitted, his voice scratchy and pathetic.

'I kind of figured,' I told him. 'Why didn't you stay in bed?'

'Didn't want to wake you,' he said.

'Do you want to go back to bed?' I asked him. 'Have you eaten anything yet?'

'Not yet,' he answered.

'You should eat something,' I told him. 'All you had yesterday was two pieces of toast and a couple sips of a sports drink.'