"Good." He slid his hands away from her face and slowly climbed off of the bed. "I don't want you talking with him anymore, Heather. If he tries to contact you? Ignore him from now on. It'll save you another headache." He moved over to where he had parked the bag and dug around for a moment. Three items in his hands, he dropped back onto the bed beside her and handed them to her, one by one. Bottled water, Advil, and finally, a puppy stuffed animal.
"They're to make you feel better," he explained, "all of it."