He nods, reaching for my hand. I let him grab it.
Touching him feels like coming home. I wrap my fingers around his hand, holding on like he’s my lifeline.
“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking,” he says softly.
“About us,” I say the words as a statement, not a question.
“About my life. About what you need.”
I’m silent, giving him room to speak.
“Ever since we started seeing one another,” he says. “I pictured us building a life. I told myself to be patient. When Mia was ready, we’d move forward.”
He squeezes my hand. I force myself to keep breathing.
“And now … she might be ready,” I say, my voice barely a whisper.
“Yes. That’s what I thought too.” His smile grows. “When she said she wished I were her dad …”
“She meant that,” I tell him. Then I say what’s on my mind. Our time is short. I can’t beat around the bush. “And it scared you.”
“No.” He shakes his head. “I’d love to be her dad. Or stepdad. Whatever label. I’d love to partner with you—raising her.”
These are the words I’ve longed to hear—from him. But his face is stern, even though his eyes are kind.
“But?” I ask.
“But I realized something.” He shifts, winces, and then he says. “The accident shed a light on reality.” His brows draw in. “Why didn’t I see this sooner?” he shakes his head. “All along you said Mia can’t afford to get attached and lose me. Shecould have lost me. She could lose me. One day, I could be on a call and in a second she’d lose another man in her life.”
“Greyson.” I reach my other hand out, the one he’s not holding, and run my hand down his cheek, cupping his jaw.
Of course he’s not questioning us. How could I ever have thought he was? He’s trying to protect us—as always.
“I’m going to say something to you,” I say. “And I want you to just think about it. Don’t respond or answer me right now.”
He nods.
“If there’s one thing I’ve learned since Mia was born it’s that life is risk. Love is risk.”
His lips thin as if I’m sharing a platitude instead of a hard-earned life lesson. “And what’s crazy is how quickly I forgot that since you and I started reconnecting. I let my fear of what might happen to Mia overshadow everything.
“It took her saying what she did yesterday in your hospital room for me to realize how strong she really is. I can’t protect her from everything. And I shouldn’t protect her from a relationship with you—or from seeing me happy with a man I love.”
His face softens.
“I choose you, Greyson.” I run my hand down his cheek. “Mia chooses you.”
His brows draw higher, knitting together as if my words hurt him somehow.
I don’t hold back. I need him to hear this. “The question is whether you choose us. If you back off now—out of fear that we might lose you, you'll be putting us through the very thing you're trying to protect us from.
“We’d lose you before we even got to have you. Only it would be because you left—not because you died saving someone's life.”
“I wouldn’t step away because you mean too little,” he says, his voice gruff. “I’d do it because you mean too much.”
“You’d be protecting us,” I say.
“Exactly.” He nods, shutting his eyes and opening them again.
