Jim woke up to Delilah's urgent cries, feeling cold and with his neck aching. Disoriented, he blinked around at the sunlit living room. Why was he here?
Oh, right. He was waiting for a phone call. Only he had fallen asleep in the chair by the window, hoping the phone would ring, even when it was way past the time any of them would be awake.
He tried to swallow around the lump in his throat. Sadness pooled at the bottom of his stomach. He tried to push it away, it wasn't their fault. It was no one's fault. He had always known about their crazy schedules. These mornings, however, he always had the awful feeling of being expendable.
Jim shook his head and rolled his shoulders back, biting the inside of his cheek. He didn't have the right to complain, and he wouldn't brood and wallow, even if no one was here to witness.
"What do you think about working today, love?" he asked the cat rubbing around his ankles.
He'd be feeling better in no time. If he smiled, no one had to know about his silly fears.