He was worried and Sarah wasn't happy that he was, because he had enough to deal with every day. The last thing he needed, as far as she was concerned, was adding worrying about her and whatever this was to that list. But there was little she could do to argue what he was saying, despite the urge to do so that she bit back.
"If Toby's been talking, then you probably know he thinks I'm a brat to take care of when I don't feel well," she said, making a face. It was, at most, a token warning, because she knew that fussing over her might make him feel better – and ignored the nagging feeling that it would only end up confirming something she didn't want to here about her denial of being sick – and in addition to that, she was tired.
"I'll let you see I'm not so I have backup the next time he says I am, but I still need to finish this stuff," she said, tapping the stack of papers with her free hand. She didn't really, at least not tonight. It could wait, and even if she did try, she didn't think she'd get very far. But if he wanted to fuss, she'd give him his first opening.