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“Illyria is his mother.” Salvatore waited until I looked at him again. “And so are you.”

“He doesn’t need both of us.”

“That isn’t yours to decide.”

“I already decided it when I gave him to her.”

“You decided where he would be safest. You didn’t decide that your life stopped mattering to him.” Salvatore’s voice roughened. “Our son has already lost his father. Don’t make him lose his mother because you convinced yourself he won’t notice.”

“How can he lose someone he doesn’t know?”

“Because one day he might know. Because Illyria will know. Maxim will know. Your parents will know. Every person who helped us keep him alive will carry your absence into that house.” His hand tightened around mine. “You don’t get to call pain harmless because Henry is too young to name it.”

I looked toward the hallway leading to the room where our son had once slept. The cabin remained silent. No infant cried for us, and no future waited beyond the dark.

“I don’t know how to be his mother from a distance.”

“Love him from there.”

“That isn’t enough.”

“It has to be until you can give him more.” Salvatore leaned closer. “You taught me that loving someone sometimes means accepting the distance that keeps them alive. Don’t turn the sacrifice you made for Henry into permission to leave him.”

My breathing broke. Salvatore came around the table and kneeled beside my chair. I touched his face with both hands, feeling the familiar shape of his jaw and the faint scar near his brow. He covered my wrists and closed his eyes against my palms.

“I miss you,” I whispered.

“I know.”

“Every morning, I wake up and lose you again.”

“I know, baby.”

“I’m so tired.”

Salvatore opened his eyes. Tears shone in them. “Then rest. But don’t follow me just because you know where I am.”

“I don’t know where you are.”

“Yes, you do.” He pressed his mouth against the center of my palm. “I’m wherever you keep loving me. You don’t have to die to find me.”

I leaned forward until my forehead rested against his. “I can’t promise I’ll walk away from the truth.”

“I didn’t ask you to.”

“Then what are you asking?”

“Stop walking toward me.” Salvatore drew back enough to see my face. “If death comes for you, fight it. If the truth asks for your life, make it take every piece instead of offering yourself first.” Pale light began gathering beyond the windows. The snow on the sill brightened, and the cabin slowly lost its shadows. Fear seized me. I tightened my hands around him. “Don’t go.”

“You know I have to.”

“Please.”

“Live until morning,” he whispered.

“It is morning.”

Salvatore smiled through his tears. “Then give me one more.”