She hasn't really thought about what would happen if he was gone.
Laying in bed with a cold, he was. Huffing and sniffling and complaining of headaches. It was happening more and more lately and however much she tries to pin it to her brain that it was after all winter, being the pessimist she is, she's jumping to hideous conclusions that send her heart rate up and brings sweat to her palms.
It scares her, so much more than she is willing to admit, knowing that perhaps one day she will have to let him go, whether it be his death or simply him realizing that she's not all that he makes her out to be. His constant compliments, his gentle ways. They never seem to make it past the stone wall around her heart, however much she wills them to.
So she sits on the couch, grips her cup of cocoa and wishes him well, brings him tea and meals and books and whatever else he requests. Because she knows she can do nothing more for him, and if she can't bring herself to accept the fact that he loves her unconditionally, she can at the very least be at his every beck and call. It's the least she can do for his kindness.
He calls her, yet again. She rushes to his side, kneeling down so he doesn't have to raise his voice.
"Love, would you mind finding me some asprin?" he asks, a small smile coming to his lips. His green eyes, so much duller than usual, keep her steady gaze, and she finds it difficult to look away as she nods and stands up, trodding away to find the small bottle they keep in the kitchen drawer. It's exactly where it's meant to be, and she finds herself swearing under her breath at her palms, her heart pounding within her chest. Because she had always forgotten where it was before, yet now she could find the bottle with her eyes closed.
It scares her, but then so does everything nowadays.
So she brings him his asprin, a cup of water, makes sure he's okay, and she leaves him to sleep again. She pretends she doesn't hear the raspy, accented, "I love you," that he calls out before she leaves, wishes she could say it back, because although she means it, she can't convince herself that he does, too.