Page 53 of Drop Dead Gorgeous

She gestures around the shop.

“The collecting. The hovering. You knew this was coming, and you wanted to make it… what? Gentler?”

I shake my head, appalled.

“No. I didn’t know. Not until this morning. Last night, you felt as alive as anyone.” My mind betrays me with the memory of her asleep beside me, the steady pulse beneath her jaw where I rested my fingers, the quiet little sound she makes when she turns toward me in her sleep, all warm curves and tangled hair. “I don’t want this.”

Lavinia lays both hands flat against the counter. I can see the faint tremor running through them.

“Seems a little late to protest.”

“What did the doctor say?”

She shrugs, rolling up her sleeves as though preparing for a fight.

“There’s a mass in my chest. The kind that doesn’t listen to reason. They want more tests, but I saved them the trouble. I could tell from the look on Halvorsen’s face.”

“You should have told me.”

The words escape before I can stop them, and I regret them immediately. I am not entitled to her fears. I am not entitled to her confessions. I am not even entitled to her time.

But Lavinia, with her infinite patience for the lost and the inarticulate, simply tilts her head.

“And what would you have done?”

I stare at the frost gathering in the corners of the glass.

“Begged you to let me stay.”

She sighs.

“I kept hoping it would just… go away. People beat these things all the time.”

Her smile is heartbreakingly small.

“But I guess I’m not people, am I?”

“You’re the only person who’s ever truly mattered to me.”

I do not realize I have spoken until the words are hanging between us like a shroud.

Lavinia walks around the counter and comes to stand in front of me. She doesn't bother with comforting words or careful gestures. She simply places her palm against my chest.

Her hand is very small.

Very warm.

“You don’t have to do this,” she says quietly. “You don’t have to pretend for my sake.”

“I am not pretending.”

Her lips twist into a sad little smile.

“I mean you don’t have to stay. I only want you here if you want to be.”

Something inside me gives way.

“How can you say that?” The anger surprises even me. “You know what I am. I have waited millennia to feel what I feel for you.” My voice breaks despite every effort to steady it. “I will not walk away.”