Heather had meant to take a tray in, and leave it. And let him sleep for a little while longer. But once the door was open, quietly of course, she couldn't make herself move farther into the room. He looked so peaceful laying there. Knowing what awaited him outside of whatever he dreamed of... It seemed cruel.
Moving as quietly as she could she put the tray of covered food, and coffee(in an insulated covered mug) on the bedside table. Was it weird to watch him sleep? Maybe. But it didn't make her move.
Hand dropping to move over her stomach, the baby inside doing somersaults it felt like, before easing forward to attempt to fix the blankets. The need to mother him itching along her arms.