I nod and close my eyes, letting his warmth, his presence,and his love sink into me. I almost lost him. He almost lost me.
But we’re here. We survived.
I place my hand on his cheek, his beard longer than before. “I trust you, Dan.”
He exhales as if the weight of the world just fell from his shoulders. He turns his face slightly, pressing a lingering kiss to my palm. “Then let me prove to you every day that you can.”
I trace my fingers along his jaw, feeling the roughness of his beard, the warmth of his skin beneath my touch. “You already have.”
A breath shudders from him, and he leans in, brushing his lips against my temple. “You scared the hell out of me, Rose. You have to stop saving me.”
“I’ll stop saving you when you stop saving me.” My voice is barely a whisper, but he hears it.
His lips curve, his eyes softening. “That’ll be never then.” He shifts in the chair, wincing slightly as his hand returns to his abdomen.
I nod weakly, my body still exhausted, my heart still racing, but there’s no fear anymore. Only us. My chest clenches. "Lie with me," I say, tugging at his hand.
He shakes his head. "You're still healing, and I don’t want to hurt you."
"You won't."
His hesitation lasts only a second before he carefully manoeuvres onto the bed beside me. He keeps his arm loose around my waist, careful of my stitches, his warmth wrapping around me like a shield.
I press my face against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. The sound anchors me, soothes the last of the fear lingering in my bones. “I’ve always loved you, Dan.”
“I know.” He strokes my hair, his fingers moving lazily. "Get some rest, fiore mio." His voice is thick with exhaustion. "I’ll be right here when you wake up."
And I believe him.
Because for the first time in a long time, I know with certainty, Dan isn’t going anywhere.
Neither am I.
We belong to each other, in this life and the next.
And no force in the world—no scars, no ghosts, no past—will ever separate us.
42
DAN
The sun slants through the living room window, casting golden light over the blanket draped around Rose’s shoulders. She sits propped against the cushions, her legs thrown over mine, a book in her lap, but her eyes aren’t on the pages. They’re on me.
“What’s that look for?”
“I was just reading and the main character was chewing gum. I haven’t seen you chew your strawberry gum for a long time. Or any gum, for that matter.”
“The strawberry reminded me of you. It always calmed me down.” I shrug a shoulder. “I suppose now I have you, I haven’t needed it.”
I stroke my thumb over the bare skin on her feet, reminding me of the massage I gave her in the hotel room. My plan is to give her plenty more of those and anything else she wants. I’ll never take her for granted. We may not quite be home yet, but I’m so fucking glad she’s out of hospital. After six weeks of recovery, she’s finally able to walk without aids. I look forward to the day I can get her back to the UK, but we still have unfinished business here, hanging over our heads like a bad smell.
An alarm goes off on my watch. I twist to the small table at the side of the sofa, a twinge tugging at my ribs like it does with any sudden movement, but it’s a fraction of what she’s been through. “Time for your meds.”
Her lips curve into a smile as I open her daily pill box.
“Your magic pill, fiore mio.” I hand her the pills one at a time.
“You mean the pill I have to take so I don’t reject you?”
