I had been listening to James lumbering around the house for ten minutes, calling my name and trying to find me. I couldn't reply, fearful that opening my mouth would have dire consequences. Eventually his footsteps came towards the door, and I heard him rattle the doorknob.
«No, James, don't come in!» I shouted as quickly as I could. The urgency in my voice was enough to make James stop.
«Emily! There you are! Can't you answer me when I'm calling you?» His voice came through the door sounding a little annoyed, but then it softened and turned confused. «What's wrong, why can't I come in?»
«The plague!» I moaned back at him. «Nauseous. So.. fucking... nauseous.»
«Oh...» He said quietly. After a pause the voice spoke again. «I'm sorry you're ill, love...»
«Are you... feeling okay though?» I managed to ask in between gasps of soothing, chilly air.
«Yeah, I'm just fine, don't worry. I'll just... go have some breakfast, maybe have a shower. Check back on you later?»
«Mmmrhmg,» I moaned as confirmation.
«I wish you could keep me company...» His voice said longingly.
«Me too...» I said, thoroughly unhappy. If whatever I had was contagious, I couldn't risk passing it on to James, I couldn't risk him catching something that could infect the whole crew when they were doing live shows and a big special. I had woken up in the very early hours of the morning, bathed in cold sweat and incredibly nauseous. The next hour was spent on the bathroom floor. Realising I should keep my distance from James I hobbled into the guest room and opened the window a little to let in the cool, late September air. Ever since I had been draped over a corner of the bed with a blanket draped over my back, somehow being most comfortable hanging over something. A bucket was stood next to the bed, just in case. The effort of trying to cling on to my own stomach had already exhausted me, and miraculously I felt myself drift off.
«No, James, don't come in!» I shouted as quickly as I could. The urgency in my voice was enough to make James stop.
«Emily! There you are! Can't you answer me when I'm calling you?» His voice came through the door sounding a little annoyed, but then it softened and turned confused. «What's wrong, why can't I come in?»
«The plague!» I moaned back at him. «Nauseous. So.. fucking... nauseous.»
«Oh...» He said quietly. After a pause the voice spoke again. «I'm sorry you're ill, love...»
«Are you... feeling okay though?» I managed to ask in between gasps of soothing, chilly air.
«Yeah, I'm just fine, don't worry. I'll just... go have some breakfast, maybe have a shower. Check back on you later?»
«Mmmrhmg,» I moaned as confirmation.
«I wish you could keep me company...» His voice said longingly.
«Me too...» I said, thoroughly unhappy. If whatever I had was contagious, I couldn't risk passing it on to James, I couldn't risk him catching something that could infect the whole crew when they were doing live shows and a big special. I had woken up in the very early hours of the morning, bathed in cold sweat and incredibly nauseous. The next hour was spent on the bathroom floor. Realising I should keep my distance from James I hobbled into the guest room and opened the window a little to let in the cool, late September air. Ever since I had been draped over a corner of the bed with a blanket draped over my back, somehow being most comfortable hanging over something. A bucket was stood next to the bed, just in case. The effort of trying to cling on to my own stomach had already exhausted me, and miraculously I felt myself drift off.
The sound of the door opening tore me out of my uneasy slumber. Instinctively I turned around quickly and saw James coming through the doorway.
«James, no...!» I began, but the sudden movement made my stomach do another major lurch and I flopped back down over my corner, begging silently for my stomach to settle again. I heard James' footsteps cross the room. His legs, then the rest of him came into view as he crouched down next to the bed, lowering himself to my eye level.
«Emily, I live with you. Most of last night I spent kissing all of you, particularly your mouth. If whatever you have is catching, I would be just as... green are you are right now,» he pointed out calmly. Piercing, blue eyes peered at me, filled with worry and sympathy.
«Point...» I mumbled and waggled a finger at him. He studied me for a moment.
«Aaaw, poor baby,» he said with genuine feeling. Gently he ran a hand over my forehead, brushing away some stray curls and tucking them behind my ear. «Do you have a fever?»
«Mno, just... chills, sweats,» I sighed.
«I'll be right back, okay?» He heaved himself up off the floor and disappeared from view. I heard him potter around the house for a little, then his footsteps returned. After some rummaging I felt his strong arms grab hold of me, hoisting me up. «Come on, up off the floor.»
«Mno, no moving, need to be still,» I complained, but let myself be dragged onto the bed. «If I throw up it'll be all over you,» I huffed as I collapsed back against James, resting my back against his chest. He was sitting upright, leaning against the headboard, cradling me in his arms. He pulled the blanket over me.
«I don't care if you do.»
«Bollocks,» I snorted.
«All right, I would be thoroughly disgusted. But I'll live with the threat,» he said calmly. A cold, damp cloth was gently draped over my forehead. The coolness of the cloth felt soothing against my skin, the discomfort of my nausea had made me flushed and warm. James sat perfectly still, knowing that any sort of movement was torture. His big hand rested heavily on my stomach, the weight of it somehow felt calming and my stomach seemed to be churning less. I was still breathing heavily, feeling like lungfuls of fresh air relieved it a little.
«So how are you feeling?» He asked after a long silence.
«Like my stomach is dancing polka around my arse,» I grumbled, feeling sorry for myself. James chuckled a little.
«You stole that line off a film,» he pointed out in his typical pedantic manner.
«You still laughed,» I shot back.
«Do you think it's something you ate?»
«Are you insinuating that this is because of my cooking?» I grumbled. James chuckled a little.
«No, hwo could it be? I ate your cooking too, and I feel fine,» he pointed out.
«Probably just a tummy bug then,» I mumbled. “Just hope you won't catch it.”
«Probably,» he conceded. «I brought a can of coke with me. Isn't that supposed to help?»
«Yeah... I'll try later,» I said gratefully and gave his arm a little squeeze. «Do you even have time to sit here?»
«I've had breakfast, I've showered and everything is packed and ready by the door. It's only ten and they won't be here to pick me up for two hours,» he said, checking his wristwatch. «So I intend to sit here and cuddle you until they arrive.»
«If I wasn't ill I'd cuddle you back,» I sulked. «And kiss you, and snuggle you, and..» I ran out of breath and had to shut up again.
«I know, love,» he said and gave me a gentle kiss on the cheek. «We had a good night last night, though?» The memory of it made me break into a weak smile.
«Mmmm, very...» I agreed dreamily, and raised my arm a little to look at my new bracelet. «Perfect, actually.» Silence fell again, and I relived some of last night in my head, but then the nausea pulled me back into reality.
«I don't want to leave you like this, I can't...» James hugged me a little tighter, sounding sad.
«Yes, you can, and you will,» I said with as much parental authority as I could muster. «I'll be fine by tomorrow. You can't blow off this trip and you know it.»
«But... I'm going to miss you so fucking much.» He sulked, changing tactics.
«I thought we agreed on this?» I said with a smirk. When James had been away before, even if it was just for a few days, we'd been on the phone to each other banging on about how much we missed each other and wished we weren't apart. In the end we realised it really didn't do any good. It just made us more miserable. We were both perfectly aware of how much we missed each other, so harping on about it seemed pointless. Travelling was part of James' job, I had been aware of that before I even knew him. And he would have let me travel to Africa for months, if that was what I had wanted. We wouldn't have even met if our jobs hadn't taken us both to Syria. Being in a relationship with James meant having to deal with him being away from time to time. He loved and needed his job just like I loved and needed mine.
«I know, I know...» James sighed. «But... I still want to say it,» he complained.
«Fine. If we're making exceptions I'm taking the liberty of saying that three weeks is fucking aeons and I fucking hate your job right now. In fact, I hate the entire BBC.» He gave a quiet little chuckle.
«I love you. You know that, right?» His voice sounded so genuinely worried I had to turn around a little to look at him. I was immediately punished by the nausea.
«Of course I know that,» I said, quickly slumping back against James. «And I love you too.» He sighed heavily.
«This was so much easier before I had you.»
«What? Travelling?»
«Yes. I mean... before I only missed things like my bed, my bikes, the cat... I could be homesick, but not like this.»
«So are you saying you wish you didn't have me?» I asked teasingly.
«Fuck no. I'm just saying I hate leaving you.» He gave me a gentle peck on the cheek.
«James, no...!» I began, but the sudden movement made my stomach do another major lurch and I flopped back down over my corner, begging silently for my stomach to settle again. I heard James' footsteps cross the room. His legs, then the rest of him came into view as he crouched down next to the bed, lowering himself to my eye level.
«Emily, I live with you. Most of last night I spent kissing all of you, particularly your mouth. If whatever you have is catching, I would be just as... green are you are right now,» he pointed out calmly. Piercing, blue eyes peered at me, filled with worry and sympathy.
«Point...» I mumbled and waggled a finger at him. He studied me for a moment.
«Aaaw, poor baby,» he said with genuine feeling. Gently he ran a hand over my forehead, brushing away some stray curls and tucking them behind my ear. «Do you have a fever?»
«Mno, just... chills, sweats,» I sighed.
«I'll be right back, okay?» He heaved himself up off the floor and disappeared from view. I heard him potter around the house for a little, then his footsteps returned. After some rummaging I felt his strong arms grab hold of me, hoisting me up. «Come on, up off the floor.»
«Mno, no moving, need to be still,» I complained, but let myself be dragged onto the bed. «If I throw up it'll be all over you,» I huffed as I collapsed back against James, resting my back against his chest. He was sitting upright, leaning against the headboard, cradling me in his arms. He pulled the blanket over me.
«I don't care if you do.»
«Bollocks,» I snorted.
«All right, I would be thoroughly disgusted. But I'll live with the threat,» he said calmly. A cold, damp cloth was gently draped over my forehead. The coolness of the cloth felt soothing against my skin, the discomfort of my nausea had made me flushed and warm. James sat perfectly still, knowing that any sort of movement was torture. His big hand rested heavily on my stomach, the weight of it somehow felt calming and my stomach seemed to be churning less. I was still breathing heavily, feeling like lungfuls of fresh air relieved it a little.
«So how are you feeling?» He asked after a long silence.
«Like my stomach is dancing polka around my arse,» I grumbled, feeling sorry for myself. James chuckled a little.
«You stole that line off a film,» he pointed out in his typical pedantic manner.
«You still laughed,» I shot back.
«Do you think it's something you ate?»
«Are you insinuating that this is because of my cooking?» I grumbled. James chuckled a little.
«No, hwo could it be? I ate your cooking too, and I feel fine,» he pointed out.
«Probably just a tummy bug then,» I mumbled. “Just hope you won't catch it.”
«Probably,» he conceded. «I brought a can of coke with me. Isn't that supposed to help?»
«Yeah... I'll try later,» I said gratefully and gave his arm a little squeeze. «Do you even have time to sit here?»
«I've had breakfast, I've showered and everything is packed and ready by the door. It's only ten and they won't be here to pick me up for two hours,» he said, checking his wristwatch. «So I intend to sit here and cuddle you until they arrive.»
«If I wasn't ill I'd cuddle you back,» I sulked. «And kiss you, and snuggle you, and..» I ran out of breath and had to shut up again.
«I know, love,» he said and gave me a gentle kiss on the cheek. «We had a good night last night, though?» The memory of it made me break into a weak smile.
«Mmmm, very...» I agreed dreamily, and raised my arm a little to look at my new bracelet. «Perfect, actually.» Silence fell again, and I relived some of last night in my head, but then the nausea pulled me back into reality.
«I don't want to leave you like this, I can't...» James hugged me a little tighter, sounding sad.
«Yes, you can, and you will,» I said with as much parental authority as I could muster. «I'll be fine by tomorrow. You can't blow off this trip and you know it.»
«But... I'm going to miss you so fucking much.» He sulked, changing tactics.
«I thought we agreed on this?» I said with a smirk. When James had been away before, even if it was just for a few days, we'd been on the phone to each other banging on about how much we missed each other and wished we weren't apart. In the end we realised it really didn't do any good. It just made us more miserable. We were both perfectly aware of how much we missed each other, so harping on about it seemed pointless. Travelling was part of James' job, I had been aware of that before I even knew him. And he would have let me travel to Africa for months, if that was what I had wanted. We wouldn't have even met if our jobs hadn't taken us both to Syria. Being in a relationship with James meant having to deal with him being away from time to time. He loved and needed his job just like I loved and needed mine.
«I know, I know...» James sighed. «But... I still want to say it,» he complained.
«Fine. If we're making exceptions I'm taking the liberty of saying that three weeks is fucking aeons and I fucking hate your job right now. In fact, I hate the entire BBC.» He gave a quiet little chuckle.
«I love you. You know that, right?» His voice sounded so genuinely worried I had to turn around a little to look at him. I was immediately punished by the nausea.
«Of course I know that,» I said, quickly slumping back against James. «And I love you too.» He sighed heavily.
«This was so much easier before I had you.»
«What? Travelling?»
«Yes. I mean... before I only missed things like my bed, my bikes, the cat... I could be homesick, but not like this.»
«So are you saying you wish you didn't have me?» I asked teasingly.
«Fuck no. I'm just saying I hate leaving you.» He gave me a gentle peck on the cheek.
When I woke up I was lying on my side on the bed, duvet wrapped around me, feeling confused. The last thing I had known was being cradled in James' lap. The clock said 2pm, James would be long gone and I felt a pang of sadness and longing. I hadn't said goodbye properly to him. Gingerly I crawled out of bed, relieved to discover that movement didn't stir any more nausea in me. I padded through the empty house and headed for the kitchen, pulling out another can of coke and a banana thinking I better take it easy on my stomach. On the kitchen table was a handwritten note: «You fell asleep in my arms. Didn't have the heart to wake you. I hate myself for leaving you. Feel better. I love you. James.» I called James to let him know I was already feeling better. I thanked him for the note, and for taking care of me, then wished him a safe trip. He told me how much he loved me, and I heard the jeering and wolf-whistles from the rest of the travel party in the background. Part of me felt incredibly jealous of James for going to Africa, and I suddenly had fleeting regrets of not accepting the job offer I'd had in Rwanda. I'd entertained the thought of going with him, or just travel down on my own and surprise him. I was worried about the special episode they were making, things could get pretty extreme on those shoots; the conditions, the cars, the challenges. The crew had done these episodes many times now, and were getting better and better at safety, but I worried nonetheless. But he'd promised to check in with me as often as he could, and to be careful.
The rest of that day I felt fine, a little tired from having spent most of the early morning reeling with nausea, but otherwise fine. Which was why I was very confused when I woke up the next morning feeling the same, overwhelming sickness. I called in sick and spent the rest of the morning on the cold flagstone floor of the bathroom, eventually falling asleep on it. Later that day, when the nausea had receded I went to the pharmacy and bought motion sickness pills, in case it happened again. But I refused to think any further, it wasn't possible and it certainly wasn't that.
After four mornings of the same, blinding nausea I couldn't ignore it or act ignorant anymore. I was a nurse, for pete's sake. Working at a prematurity ward. Being paranoid and painfully aware that some people might actually know who I was, or at least who I was living with, I went to a pharmacy far away from our neighbourhood. Seven tests all said the same thing. How. How? Needing to know, and desperately needing someone to talk to, I called Kellie. She had been a resident doctor at the hospital I had worked at when first moving to London. Now she'd started up as a general physician again, and was happy to see me the very next day.
After four mornings of the same, blinding nausea I couldn't ignore it or act ignorant anymore. I was a nurse, for pete's sake. Working at a prematurity ward. Being paranoid and painfully aware that some people might actually know who I was, or at least who I was living with, I went to a pharmacy far away from our neighbourhood. Seven tests all said the same thing. How. How? Needing to know, and desperately needing someone to talk to, I called Kellie. She had been a resident doctor at the hospital I had worked at when first moving to London. Now she'd started up as a general physician again, and was happy to see me the very next day.
I stared unblinkingly at her as she returned to her office and sat down behind her desk.
«Well, it's positive. Very positive,» she announced, looking pleased. My shoulders sagged, my heart sank to the floor and I instantly started crying. I hadn't cried until then, it had been easier to just believe it wasn't happening. But now I couldn't do that anymore.
«Oh, darling...» She said sympathetically, and I saw a tissue being handed to me through my haze of tears. «It's safe to say this wasn't planned, then?» I made a sound somewhere between a chuckle and a sob.
«Fuck no,» I sniffed. With a sigh I dried my face with the tissue and looked up at Kellie. «This isn't fucking happening,» I breathed, fiddling with the tissue.
«Seven home-tests, which I personally think was a bit excessive, and one proper lab-test says otherwise, darling,» she sighed. «Have you been using any contraceptives?»
«I've been on the bloody pill,» I mumbled sourly. «But maybe I forgot once or twice...»
«That could be it. Besides, birth control pills are only 99,8% safe.»
«Typical of me to fall into the smallest percentage,» I scoffed.
«Have you ever talked about having children?» Kellie was perfectly aware of who I was living with, she was one of many people who had sent me a text after having watched Top Gear. 'Did I just see you on TV?' Kellie was one of the few girl-friends I had and we'd had lunches together after that and talked about James and our relationship.
«Well, I... Just about how we don't want them, basically. He thinks he's too old and I'm just terrified of having them. We've only talked about them as if we were never going to have any. God, how am I going to tell him this?»
«By stringing words into sentences,» Kellie said dryly.
«You're such a bint.» I shook my head, unable to hold back a chuckle. «James is away, too. He's in Africa, doing Top Gear Live and then they're filming an episode in Uganda. He won't be back for another two weeks! I can't tell him this on the phone, he's working, that would just be cruel...»
«Hmm...» Kellie said, thinking. «Maybe you should wait until he gets back. This is one of those face-to-face types of conversations, I guess.»
«Yeah...» I nodded sadly. A silence fell as I stared into the surface on Kellies desk, thoughts reeling in my head.
«So... Do you want the numbers?» Kellie asked tentatively. I knew what she meant, and I nodded weakly. She straightened up, dug out a calendar and handed it to me, resuming her role as a physician. «Date of last menstrual period?»
«Um... I don't know, before Bali, now that I come to think of it. August.. 6th, maybe?» I guessed, handing the calendar back at her. Kellie just raised a quizzical eyebrow at me, obviously surprised at me for not knowing. «I've never been very... regular, ok? And I just haven't thought about it, it's not something I miss having!» I said defensively. She shook her head a little exasperatedly and made some calculations.
«Okay, so, if we have a guess at August 6... Then estimated time of conception was around August 20th.» She looked up at me as if to check if the date rang a bell.
«Well, that was on Bali, so... I'd say that was highly likely,» I said, trying to hide a blush.
«That means you are currently... 8 weeks and three days along. And your estimated due-date would be around May 14,» she finished and looked at me over the top of her glasses. At this I began laughing hysterically. She waited patiently for my hysterics to subside, obviously not seeing the joke.
«May.. baby.. James...» I gasped. She saw the joke, but didn't think it was funny. «I'm sorry, I think I'm going insane,» I sighed.
«No, you're not,» Kellie said calmly. «You're just freaking out a little. I've seen far worse reactions to a pregnancy,» she assured me. She studied me for a long time before speaking again. «Emily, go home. Have a bath, try to relax, order some good food. Give it some time, let it sink in. Talk to James about it, on the phone or when he comes home.»
«Okay...» I nodded, trying hard not to cry again. «But... If I don't... I mean, if we don't want... When do I have to...?» I stammered, unable to say any of the important words. «In Norway it's 12 weeks, but I don't know the rules in England...»
«In the UK the limit is week 24, but the earlier you get it done the better, there are less risks involved. Emily, I know you and I consider you a friend. And I won't judge you, or James, if you chose to terminate this. Whatever choice you end up making, I'll help you with it, all right? Refer you to the right doctors and so on.»
«All right. Thanks, Kellie,» I muttered.
«You said you were having trouble with morning sickness?»
«Um, yeah. Horrible, all I do is lie on the bathroom floor from I wake up until around noon,» I said, cringing at the thought.
«So how do you manage work?»
«Badly, basically,» I sighed. «Well, afternoon shifts are OK I guess, but I had to call in sick on my last day shift, I just couldn't go. But I've tried motion sickness pills, they help a little.»
«Hmm.. How about this – try going in for work, the distraction might do you good. But if the nausea gives you too much trouble, just give me a call and I'll sort out a sick leave for you. At least for a little bit, until the nausea settles,» Kellie offered mildly. I nodded gratefully and got out of my chair. «Listen, call me if you need someone to talk to?» She rounded her desk and gave me a long hug. «And take care of yourself, ok?»
«Well, it's positive. Very positive,» she announced, looking pleased. My shoulders sagged, my heart sank to the floor and I instantly started crying. I hadn't cried until then, it had been easier to just believe it wasn't happening. But now I couldn't do that anymore.
«Oh, darling...» She said sympathetically, and I saw a tissue being handed to me through my haze of tears. «It's safe to say this wasn't planned, then?» I made a sound somewhere between a chuckle and a sob.
«Fuck no,» I sniffed. With a sigh I dried my face with the tissue and looked up at Kellie. «This isn't fucking happening,» I breathed, fiddling with the tissue.
«Seven home-tests, which I personally think was a bit excessive, and one proper lab-test says otherwise, darling,» she sighed. «Have you been using any contraceptives?»
«I've been on the bloody pill,» I mumbled sourly. «But maybe I forgot once or twice...»
«That could be it. Besides, birth control pills are only 99,8% safe.»
«Typical of me to fall into the smallest percentage,» I scoffed.
«Have you ever talked about having children?» Kellie was perfectly aware of who I was living with, she was one of many people who had sent me a text after having watched Top Gear. 'Did I just see you on TV?' Kellie was one of the few girl-friends I had and we'd had lunches together after that and talked about James and our relationship.
«Well, I... Just about how we don't want them, basically. He thinks he's too old and I'm just terrified of having them. We've only talked about them as if we were never going to have any. God, how am I going to tell him this?»
«By stringing words into sentences,» Kellie said dryly.
«You're such a bint.» I shook my head, unable to hold back a chuckle. «James is away, too. He's in Africa, doing Top Gear Live and then they're filming an episode in Uganda. He won't be back for another two weeks! I can't tell him this on the phone, he's working, that would just be cruel...»
«Hmm...» Kellie said, thinking. «Maybe you should wait until he gets back. This is one of those face-to-face types of conversations, I guess.»
«Yeah...» I nodded sadly. A silence fell as I stared into the surface on Kellies desk, thoughts reeling in my head.
«So... Do you want the numbers?» Kellie asked tentatively. I knew what she meant, and I nodded weakly. She straightened up, dug out a calendar and handed it to me, resuming her role as a physician. «Date of last menstrual period?»
«Um... I don't know, before Bali, now that I come to think of it. August.. 6th, maybe?» I guessed, handing the calendar back at her. Kellie just raised a quizzical eyebrow at me, obviously surprised at me for not knowing. «I've never been very... regular, ok? And I just haven't thought about it, it's not something I miss having!» I said defensively. She shook her head a little exasperatedly and made some calculations.
«Okay, so, if we have a guess at August 6... Then estimated time of conception was around August 20th.» She looked up at me as if to check if the date rang a bell.
«Well, that was on Bali, so... I'd say that was highly likely,» I said, trying to hide a blush.
«That means you are currently... 8 weeks and three days along. And your estimated due-date would be around May 14,» she finished and looked at me over the top of her glasses. At this I began laughing hysterically. She waited patiently for my hysterics to subside, obviously not seeing the joke.
«May.. baby.. James...» I gasped. She saw the joke, but didn't think it was funny. «I'm sorry, I think I'm going insane,» I sighed.
«No, you're not,» Kellie said calmly. «You're just freaking out a little. I've seen far worse reactions to a pregnancy,» she assured me. She studied me for a long time before speaking again. «Emily, go home. Have a bath, try to relax, order some good food. Give it some time, let it sink in. Talk to James about it, on the phone or when he comes home.»
«Okay...» I nodded, trying hard not to cry again. «But... If I don't... I mean, if we don't want... When do I have to...?» I stammered, unable to say any of the important words. «In Norway it's 12 weeks, but I don't know the rules in England...»
«In the UK the limit is week 24, but the earlier you get it done the better, there are less risks involved. Emily, I know you and I consider you a friend. And I won't judge you, or James, if you chose to terminate this. Whatever choice you end up making, I'll help you with it, all right? Refer you to the right doctors and so on.»
«All right. Thanks, Kellie,» I muttered.
«You said you were having trouble with morning sickness?»
«Um, yeah. Horrible, all I do is lie on the bathroom floor from I wake up until around noon,» I said, cringing at the thought.
«So how do you manage work?»
«Badly, basically,» I sighed. «Well, afternoon shifts are OK I guess, but I had to call in sick on my last day shift, I just couldn't go. But I've tried motion sickness pills, they help a little.»
«Hmm.. How about this – try going in for work, the distraction might do you good. But if the nausea gives you too much trouble, just give me a call and I'll sort out a sick leave for you. At least for a little bit, until the nausea settles,» Kellie offered mildly. I nodded gratefully and got out of my chair. «Listen, call me if you need someone to talk to?» She rounded her desk and gave me a long hug. «And take care of yourself, ok?»
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