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“How long have you had this headache?”

Part of him wished she didn’t know him so well, that she couldn’t read him so easily. But another part of him yearned for the intimacy, the security of her understanding him that deeply. “A couple of hours. It’s not that bad.”

“Have you always gotten headaches while you work?”

He was startled by the question. Had to think about it. “I don’t think so.”

“Because you’ve gotten one nearly every time you’ve worked for more than a few hours. I was wondering if there was a correlation.”

“I have a tumor in my brain, Eve,” he muttered, keeping his eyes closed but trying to relax the muscles in his neck and shoulders. “That’s the only correlation that matters.”

“I know. But if you can feel a little better in the time you have, I want that for you.”

He gulped. Nodded. Let out an embarrassingly long sigh as she started pushing into the muscles at the top of one of his shoulders. “I know.”

“You also seem to have fewer headaches when you drink less coffee. Have you noticed that?”

He frowned, trying to think back and assess the truth of that statement. “I don’t know.”

“I think it’s pretty clear. You were guzzling coffee all day when we first got married, and you had headaches almost every day. Not all of them were terrible, but they were consistent. Since Nancy and I have tried to cut you back some, you don’t get those minor headaches as often.”

“Maybe. Although if I went without coffee, I’d have a major headache.”

“Of course. So would I. But drinking less seems to help. And you also have more good days when you’re relaxed and enjoying yourself.”

He was silent for a few minutes, trying to figure out what to say. He was more upset than he should have been, but he didn’t want to convey that to Eve or make her feel like he resented her attempts to help him. Finally he murmured gently, “I’m not sure how much good will come of trying to sort through the ins and outs, angel. I don’t have all that long left.”

“I know.” Her voice was small and slightly wobbly. She took a breath that was louder and more ragged than it should have been.

He opened his eyes to see if she was crying.

She wasn’t, but she was close to tears.

It hurt him that she was hurt—and that he was the one hurting her.

There wasn’t anything to say. For either one of them. Eve massaged his shoulders for a few more minutes before moving her hands back up to his head. She pressed into his temples. Then found trigger points on his scalp through his hair and pushed her fingers into them.

He groaned as more of his tension released.

“Maybe…,” Eve said at last, getting only the first word out.

“Maybe what?”

“Maybe it might be worth going to the doctor again. Just to get a sense of what’s happening and whether their initial prognosis is still the same.”

His whole body stiffened. “Why?”

“Because… I don’t know… I thought it might help to get an update. I know you’ve had some terrible episodes, but overall you haven’t gotten significantly worse than you were a month and a half ago. You haven’t had any of the other symptoms they said you might have. Your ability to think and speak hasn’t been affected at all. Maybe…” She cleared her throat. “Maybe it’s not happening as fast as they thought. That happens sometimes. Maybe you have… have some extra time.”

He took several deep breaths and forced his body to relax again. “If I have extra time, I’ll appreciate it. But I don’t want any treatment.”

“I know that. You don’t need to get treatment just to get another scan and see what’s happening with the tumor.”

“I don’t want another scan.”

“But—”

“Eve, enough.”