Owen waved a dismissive hand. "No rush."
It was just a coat, after all. Owen had plenty more in his closet.
"I came home to grab some clothes and have to head back to the lab soon." His voice was thick with congestion, his face half-hidden by a mask, a dead giveaway he was battling a nasty cold.
"Hold on." Roseanne turned and went inside, returning moments later with a thermos. "I made you some chicken soup yesterday. Drink it while it's hot."
At the mention of chicken soup, Owen's brow furrowed slightly, an almost imperceptible reaction Roseanne missed as she added, "There's also some cold medicine in the bag. It's the usual stuff. Instructions are on the box."
Owen was rarely sick, and something about her concern made him momentarily consider refusing the thermos.
But then Roseanne added, "I mean, it's really my fault you ended up catching this cold."
The hand he'd almost withdrawn to refuse the offer paused, then accepted the thermos.
Checking his watch, Owen realized he was short on time. "Thanks for the chicken soup and the medicine. I'll have them."
Watching him stride away, Roseanne closed the door behind her. Her latest paper still needed work, and she'd been digging through websites for days looking for resources.
Then there were the books and papers Madeleine had given her, all in German. While her German was good enough for daily conversations, she still struggled with the technical terminology and had to take time to look up words.
While immersed in her research, Roseanne found her thoughts interrupted by her phone ringing. Annoyed but resigned, she set down her pen and picked up the phone. "Hello?"
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