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He turns back to the stove. “But I’m cleared now, so you’re off duty. I’ve got it from here.”

The warmth vanishes.

My hands curl into fists. “I’m supposed to bring you breakfast.”

“It’s okay, Bunny, you’re exhausted.” He turns back to the stove. “Sit down. I’ve got it.”

A tremor runs through my hands, and I whisper, “No.”

He doesn’t hear me, because he keeps talking. “After we eat, you should get some movement in. You haven’t exercised since I got hurt. Treadmill or one of your dance games. Whatever sounds good.”

My stomach tightens. “I have a schedule.”

He lifts one shoulder. “We can work it in.”

“No.”

He checks over his shoulder, brow furrowed.

I step farther into the kitchen. “Breakfast was supposed to be at seven thirty.”

Kain taps the spatula on the rim of the pan. “It’s okay to be a little late.”

“No,” I say again.

The spreadsheet materializes in my head. Breakfast at seven thirty. Medication with food. Water. Ice. Rest.

A mental red X slashes through the first box. Failed.

I overslept.

Kain got up.

Kain cooked breakfast.

The spreadsheet has no entry for any of this.

“I have to make your breakfast at seven thirty.” My chest tightens. “You need to eat before your medication.”

“And I will,” he reassures me as he slides scrambled eggs onto a plate. “I’ll take them right after we eat.”

“But I didn’t order you breakfast yet.”

Kain adds sunny-side-up eggs to a second plate. “I’m tired of eating out, Reef. And you’ve exhausted yourself trying to be my nurse. I can take over meals again.”

Pressure builds in my head. “I have an alarm.”

“Okay,” he says, drawing the word out.

The pressure swells behind my eyes. “It tells me when you need to eat.”

Kain sets the pan back on the burner and turns toward me. “Reef.”

“Then there’s the alarm for your medication, since you have to take it with food. And I have to check the spreadsheet because the anti-inflammatory and the pain meds aren’t on the same schedule.”

“Bunny.”

“But breakfast was supposed to happen first.”