I Pack My Own Bags
Language: en
Elliot was always good at taking care of people. When I had a fever, he would stay up half the night, pressing cool washcloths to my forehead. Before I left the house, he would meticulously pack my purse. Credit cards, ID, my medical file. He never even forgot the little tangerine drops I kept on hand to prevent my blood sugar from dipping. On the day of my follow-up appointment, I handed the neatly organized medical folder he had prepared to my physician. The doctor cross-referenced my ID with the paperwork, his voice dropping to a quiet, flat register. "This is incredibly…