"Eden—"
"You've been saving me since the day I showed up at your door." Her voice cracks. "Let me save you back."
I pull her into me.
She reaches up. Touches my face. Her fingers trace my jaw, the scars, the tusk.
The tension bleeds out of me. My fists. My jaw. The thing behind my ribs that's been howling since I heard her scream.
I hold her. Her ribs expand with each breath. In and out. In and out.
Her thumb brushes my cheekbone. I lean into it. Can't help it.
The blood soaks through my shirt, warm and wrong. But I don't let go.
"You came." Barely a whisper. "You actually came."
"Yeah."
"You said there was no we." Her voice cracks. "You called me an assignment. You said—"
"I know what I said."
"Then why?" Tears now. "Why did you come?"
"Because I was wrong."
Silence.
"About all of it." The words scrape out. "Pushing you away—I thought I was protecting you. Thought the best thing I could do for you was disappear."
I cough. Copper on my tongue. Keep talking.
"But you almost died because I wasn't here. Because I left you alone. Left you trusting the wrong people because I was too chickenshit to be the right one."
Her hands find my face. Cup my jaw.
"I was wrong, Eden. My absence isn't safety. It never was. Just me running."
"I know." Her forehead touches mine. "I don't care. You're here."
"I should have stayed. Should have fought for us—"
"You're here now. You came back."
"Broke every speed limit between Shadow Ridge and Atlanta."
"Good."
She laughs—or sobs, I can't tell which—and her body shakes against me.
I hold her tighter. The price registers in my shoulder, my side. Don't care.
"Don't let go," she whispers.
"Never."
"Promise."
