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I should insist on doing this alone.
I can’t.
“When you’re recovered. Not before.”
She studies me for another long moment, reading the concession for what it is—acknowledgment that she has won, that her participation is no longer in question, that the only variable is timing rather than inclusion.
“Then I’ll recover quickly.”
The words land like a vow. She will push herself. Will drive her depleted body back to functional status through pure determination. Will do exactly what I told her not to do, because that is who she is.
Because that’s who we both are.
