I sit up slightly, helping him ease my shirt off my shoulders. I almost feel shy, and I've never felt that way with him. Not once in our lives. But this situation is... it's deep, and important, and fragile, and I may tremble a little, just slightly, once my shirt is off.

I reach out for his shirt, but, between the bandages and the subtle shaking of my fingers, I can't get very far. Just tug a little, silently asking him to take it off. So I can look at him. So I can relearn every inch of him.