"You pretend when it suits you," she countered cheerfully, tracing fingers over his fresh bandaging to make sure it was secure before leaning sideways on her blankets.

"Likely he does, but it's weird. He can't rant at me without verbal confirmation or he'll have to deal with how miserable I can make his life." She assumed he tracked her nine days out of ten honestly, and she was willing to bet it gave him more heart attacks than relief each day! "I'll tell him eventually, if it's a recurring thing."