“No,” I whispered, more to myself than to him. “I’m not doing that.”
Instead, I lifted his hand and pressed my lips to his knuckles.
Once.
Soft.
Almost reverent.
A kiss no one could accuse of theft unless they understood everything beneath it.
“I’m not going to be the villain,” I said against his skin. “I’m not going to take what isn’t mine. But I need you to know. Just once. Even if you never hear it. Even if you wake up and choose her. Even if I have to smile and be professional and tell your fiancée how to watch for signs of infection.”
My voice broke again.
“I need you to know I loved you.”
The monitor beeped.
Steady.
Steady.
Steady.
“I love you,” I corrected.
There it was.
Present tense.
The most dangerous tense.
I held his hand against my mouth and closed my eyes.
“So you have to stay,” I whispered. “Not for me. I know I don’t get to ask that. Not anymore. Maybe not ever. Stay for Georgia. Stay for Nate. Stay for Callum. Stay for whatever you’ve been building in San Diego. Stay because you fought too hard to become more than the boy who thought the world was locked doors. Stay because you got a degree, and I’m so proud of you, even though I’m furious I had to hear about your life in pieces instead of from you.”
I laughed softly through tears.
“Stay because Lily will never forgive you if Nate dies or you die after making her learn your entire tragic backstory by proximity.”
Nothing.
Still nothing.
I reached up again and smoothed his hair back from his forehead.
This time, I let my hand rest there.
He felt warm.
Too warm and not warm enough.
“I don’t know what happens when you wake up,” I said. “Maybe nothing. Maybe I walk out of this room and hand your life back to the woman wearing your ring. Maybe that is the right thing. Maybe right things are supposed to feel like being cut open.”
I bent and pressed a kiss to his forehead.
Not his mouth.
