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I tried to cook food today. It seemed like a good way to at least slightly repay Noah, plus I was getting restless from always being on the couch. There wasn’t a lot of food in the kitchen area, but he had lots of pasta boxes and a couple of veggies in the fridge. I’m pretty sure I’m a decent cook, but I haven’t done it in a while, so it took a while to finish the meal, but I did it, and I felt surprisingly good about it. I picked up the pan from the stove when it was all done cooking and was turning around to the counter behind me where I had put the plates when my arm faltered. The pan dropped out of my hand, and everything crashed and spilled on the floor. I stared at it for a minute not moving, then my body began shaking. I don’t know when the tears started, or at what point I ended up on the floor.  

I sat there on the kitchen floor crying and shaking until Noah got home. He found me there in the kitchen and after looking around at the mess he bent down next to me. I had my head tucked against my knees and refused to look or talk to him. He ended up just picking me up off the floor and carrying me to the bathroom. Some of the hot food had gotten on my foot. It wasn’t bad, but there was some red and irritated skin that had apparently been burned. I hadn’t even noticed it. He ran the water and kept my foot under it for a while, then he bandaged it with some ointment and gauze from a first aid kit. I was no longer sobbing now, but I stayed in the bathroom, sitting on the toilet looking at my bandaged foot, while Noah went out and cleaned up the kitchen. When I finally moved to go to sleep there was still a burn mark on the tile, but all other signs of what had happened were gone. Noah was asleep in his bedroom, and the door was open unlike before. There was a sandwich on the coffee table, and I ate it while petting Jasper.