“She saved my life.” Sabrina swallowed hard. “You both did.”
Noah stepped into the room finally, setting the bag on a chair. His movements were measured, deliberate—so unlike his usual fluid energy that it hurt to watch. He kept his distance, standing at the foot of the bed.
“There’s something else.” He pulled a folded paper from his jacket pocket. “Your SAR certification came through.”
“What?” She stared at him. “How is that possible?”
“Emergency field certification.” He set the paper on her bedside table. “Based on demonstrated competence during an actual crisis situation. Ripley performed exactly as trained—located help, led rescuers back to you. It’s a provisional certification pending formal evaluation, but it’s valid. Congratulations.”
The professional courtesy in his voice cut deeper than anger would have. “Noah—”
“I wrote the recommendation myself,” he said, continuing as if she hadn’t spoken. “You two make a good team.”
“We do.” She seized the opening. “Just like you and I make a good team.”
His eyes finally met hers fully, and what she saw there—hurt and an utter lack of hope—nearly broke her.
“Sabrina.” Her name sounded raw in his throat. “You don’t have to do this.”
“I love you.” The words burst from her with the force of a flash flood, unstoppable and transformative. “I love you, and I was wrong, and I’m so sorry I hurt you.”
Noah went completely still, wariness draped around him. “What happened in the cave—”
“Changed everything,” she finished for him. “Not because I almost died, but because it forced me to see what I’d been running from. You were right, Noah. About all of it. About us.”
He didn’t move, but he felt farther away all at once. “I don’t want you to say things you don’t mean because you’re grateful to be alive.”
“This isn’t gratitude.” She pushed herself straighter in the bed, needing him to understand. “This is truth. The guy who chased me into that cave—he was there because of Annie Ross. Because we were getting too close to whatever happened to her.”
Noah’s focus sharpened instantly and he fairly bristled. “You were attacked? You didn’t tell me—”
“Because the guy was already gone,” she said softly. “But that’s all I could think about while I was trapped. That you’d have protected me. And I’ve spent my whole life fighting against letting anyone get close enough to do that. Not because I like being alone. Because I was scared.”
Noah crossed his arms. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying I was afraid. Not of you, but of what you make me feel.” The words tumbled out now, unstoppable. “My whole life, I’ve defined strength as not needing anyone. I thought being independent meant doing it alone. Not being part of a family. Not being part of a team. But that’s not strength—it’s isolation. And it’s exhausting.”
“Sabrina—”
“Let me finish. Please.” She drew a shaky breath. “When you asked me to move in with you, I panicked. I thought you were trying to crowd me, to arrange my life to suit you, that you didn’t know me at all. When, really, you knew exactly what I needed. You were offering to share your life, your family. I couldn’t see the difference because I’d never had anyone offer me partnership before. Not real partnership.”
Noah’s jaw worked as he stared at a spot above her head. Not interrupting. But not flinging himself into her arms either.
But she couldn’t stop confessing all of the things in her heart. Even if he turned his back on them.
“The cave showed me what real isolation feels like,” she continued. “And it’s not freedom. It’s emptiness. I don’t want to be alone anymore, Noah. I want to be part of Team Saboah Nobina forever. I want you.”
“Sabrina.” He ran a hand through his hair, that familiar gesture that made her heart ache. “I want to believe you mean these things. That this is real.”
“It is real,” she insisted, wishing he’d moved close enough for her to touch him. But she understood why he hadn’t.
He made a noise in his throat. “You nearly died today. That changes how people see things, feel things. I’ve watched it happen a dozen times in this work.”
“This isn’t about the cave,” she said, though she could see he didn’t believe her.
“Maybe not,” he conceded. “But I need to know that when you’re healed, when you’re back to being you with both feet firmly on the ground, you’ll still want the same things.”
She nodded. That was fair.
