9
“How are you feeling?” Charles carried a tray of food into the guest bedchamber for Graham. His younger brother sat up in bed, his face still a messy mix of blue and purple bruises. One eye was almost swollen shut.
Graham winced as he reached for the toast on the tray Charles placed on his lap. “I feel like the devil himself trod all over me with his cloven hooves.”
“Eat, even if it hurts. Food will help you heal.” Charles pulled the chair up to the side of the bed and watched as Graham ate. It’d been so long since he and Graham had talked, let alone been in the same room like this.
Graham paused in his breakfast to look at him. “You don’t have to stay and watch me eat.”
“I know. I suppose I am just glad you came to me.” He didn’t have the courage to confess how much it meant to him
