Page 155 of Break Me

I nod because I know he’ll be by my side, but that’s not what I’m asking.

“I know,” I say softly, my fingers tightening slightly in the sleeve of my sweater. “I just mean…”

The words catch in my throat.

“Are you going to stay?” I ask. “Here. At the house.”

He doesn’t hesitate.

“Yeah,” he says. “Of course.”

“And the garage?”

“Yeah.”

I watch the creek for a long moment, the water moving steadily past, carrying everything forward whether it’s ready or not. When I speak again, my voice is surer than before.

“You’re going to have to keep going,” I say.

“What?”

“After,” I say softly. “You can’t just stop.”

The silence that follows is different this time. Heavier. Like I’ve crossed an invisible line that neither of us can turn back from.

“Raven—”

“You won’t be alone forever,” I continue, because if I let him interrupt, I won’t finish this, and I need to. “You shouldn’t be.”

He pulls back just enough that I feel the tension that replaces the steady warmth that’s been there all afternoon.

“That’s not happening.”

His voice is firmer now, edged with something that feels too close to anger to ignore.

“Sam, please.”

“No,” he says, the word immediate, unyielding. “You’re not going anywhere.”

The words come fast, like he’s been holding them back and they’ve finally found a way out. I turn just enough to look at him, catching the way his jaw tightens after, the way his eyes don’t quite settle.

“If I had a choice,” I say softly. “I wouldn’t.”

His body stiffens.

“I wouldn’t leave you,” I continue, my voice steady even as something inside me pulls tight. “You know that.”

“Then don’t talk like that.”

The edge in his voice is sharper now, closer to anger, but it isn’t really anger. Not at me, not even at the words themselves, but at the thing behind them. The disease neither of us can stop.

“I wish it worked that way,” I say, my gaze holding his for just a second longer. “I wish wanting it were enough.”

He looks away first. Because we both know it isn’t.

“The choice isn’t mine,” I add, quieter now. “It hasn’t been for a while.”

The words settle between us, heavier than anything we’ve said so far. Final in a way that doesn’t leave room for either of us to pretend we don’t understand.