That night I don’t sleep.

I lie there, next to Damian, on his bed, curled up into a ball. My body is still so I don’t wake him, but my mind is racing.

Once we got settled into the room, he showered, which I had to help him, then after I got him to the bed, I took my own. We were both dressed in his clothes and then we ended up in bed.

He fell asleep rather quickly, which I assumed was to help himself heal. But me? No, I can’t sleep. Not when I feel like this.

It’s like I’m trying to ...