Page 42 of The Editor’s Choice

It’s in this moment I realize there are a million reasons to love this woman. There’s not a single thing I wouldn’t do for her, regardless of what that means for me or the rest of the human population.

Except one.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Roman

“Tell me your thoughts,” she says excitedly, discarding her empty plate on the coffee table while turning her body to face me, eyes fixed on my face expectantly.

“You don’t want to hear my thoughts,” I laugh, brushing off the demand. My mind hasn’t slowed down since the second I met this woman, let alone through this self-inflicted trauma scene disguised as a love story. Only a masochist watches this shit, I swear.

Her lower lips pops out, giving her the perfect pouty face. It’s so cute I could die. Seeing her being so playful sets my blood on fire in a way I didn’t know was possible.

So this is what being in love feels like, I think for the second time. The thought makes me queasy, but I’d be lying to myself if I didn’t admit it also makes me a bit excited.

Rolling my eyes, I give in with a sigh. “Fine,” I say, turning toward her now. “I think he was incredibly selfish.” I press my forefinger against her lips to quiet her as she begins to protest my assessment. “I’m not finished,” I continue, slightly raising my eyebrows.

She huffs but remains quiet as she crosses her arms over her chest, impatiently waiting for my explanation as if it’s oxygen in a room deprived of air. Like my thoughts and feelings actually matter. Fuck.

“I think it was both incredibly selfish and selfless,” I press on. “He was in so much pain, both physically and mentally. It wasn’t fair to himself to continue living in that condition. In that way, it was a very selfish decision to hurt everyone around him who loved him dearly in order to end his own suffering. Ensuring his pain would end but theirs would only be beginning.”

Her eyes widen a fraction, taking in that perspective. She’s frozen in place, waiting with bated breath.

“However, in the same instant, he was insanely selfless. He could have stayed, prevented Louisa’s emotional pain, loved her for whatever time he had left.” She nods, agreeing quietly, as if that’s the only answer that makes any real sense. “But it was selfless to let her go.”

“How do you figure?!” She’s nearly frantic when the question spews from her lips. “He left her! Right after she had finally found happiness. And he was freaking happy with her!”

“You’re absolutely right. I couldn’t disagree if I tried. But she would have never gotten to experience the world if he had stayed. She would have stayed with him, taking care of him, never seeing the wonders the world has to offer. Never leaving that tiny town. She wouldn’t have gotten the chance to authentically be herself. And that would have been too much guilt for him to bear,” I finish, locking my gaze with her mesmerizing eyes.

“She never would have had a single complaint. She would have gladly given up anything in this world just to be with him,” she pouts again, feeling passionately about these fictional people and their story. “She just wanted to be with him,” she finished sadly, tears brimming again.

“Like I said, it was both selfish and selfless,” I reiterate, taking her hand to pull her back into me, needing the warmth of her body pressed against mine again. I don’t know how long we’ll have together so I don’t plan on wasting a single second of it.

“The good news is, neither of us have been in a terribly life-altering accident, so we’re not going to have to make that decision,” I remind her gently.

She sighs in contentment, taking solace in that truth, though what’s to come may be more gruesome than any accident I could imagine.

***

Holding her flush against me in my bed, I begin to doze finally. We’ve been in bed for hours now, but my brain has refused to be quiet, keeping me awake as she sleeps peacefully next to me.

“Emily!” she screams, voiced pitched high in terror. She thrashes and pushes away from me, hands pulled into tight fists. Her face is contorted in the dim light, showing a strange mix of fear and anger.

I reach for her, barely grazing her arm when she begins to wail, releasing unbridled grief and panic. Her eyes are still closed, still entirely asleep as the nightmare wreaks havoc on her mentally.

“Jade,” I say gently, reaching out to run my fingertips down her cheek, hoping a light touch will bring her out of the nightmare and back to reality where I can keep her safe. “Jade, baby, you’re having a nightmare but I’m right here. Wake up for me, darling,” I coax gently, her eyes fluttering as she fights to regain consciousness.

It takes several more seconds before her eyes fully open, coated with sleep and confusion. They widen in a panic before she sits bolt upright in the bed, sweat sliding down her forehead, down her cheeks and neck before disappearing into the cloth of my t-shirt she had donned before crawling into bed with me. The sight makes my stomach do somersaults.

As her breathing gradually slows, her shoulders drop and the tension bleeds out of her body. She slides back down, laying back down again, though she lays a little way away from me now. Turning on her side, her gaze finds mine. Her eyes still look sleepy, even though she’s fighting it now, afraid to return to that hell.

“I never sleep anymore,” she says, sadness flitting through her eyes and into her voice. “Not since everything happened. I have that same nightmare damn near every night. It’s killing me from the inside out,” she confesses, frustration seeping into her voice to mingle with the sadness that remains there.

“I’m right here,” I say, reaching out to stroke her hair away from her face. “I’ll be here to fight those demons with you. And if I can’t figure out how to fight them, I’ll at least sit with you in the dark.” The promise brings a small smile to her lips but the grief remains in her eyes.

My phone buzzes on the nightstand, drawing my attention away. Rolling over, I reach for it and find a text.

On my way. Got caught up.