Page 116 of Falcon’s Forever

"Very."

I look toward the window. "I also don't know if loving him is enough."

She's quiet, letting me get there without being pushed, and it occurs to me that's exactly what I've spent weeks trying to teach her, and here she is doing it back to me.

“I used to think it was,” I say. “Before everything happened, I believed that if two people loved each other enough, the rest would sort itself out.”

“That sounds optimistic,” Emily says.

“I was younger.”

She raises an eyebrow. “You were twenty-eight, not twelve.”

“Thank you for pointing that out.”

“You’re welcome,” she says sweetly.

I try not to smile and don’t quite manage it.

"Love didn't protect me," I say. "Falcon couldn't protect me. I spent years confusing those two things. I thought if he loved me enough he should've found me, and when he didn't, there had to be something wrong with the love itself."

"That isn't fair."

"No, but it made sense at the time."

She nods. "So, what do you need from him now?"

There's the question again, and I keep avoiding it, which is probably why it keeps getting asked.

"I need him to want to come home to me," I say. "I don't need him to stop being dangerous. I don't even need him to stop going toward danger when his job requires it. I need to know that when he has a choice, he doesn't automatically pick the option where he's the one who gets hurt instead of somebody else."

"Because that means he thinks he's worth less."

"Yes. Exactly that. And if he believes that, every time something goes wrong I'm going to be waiting for the day he decides protecting me means not coming back."

Emily picks at a loose thread on the blanket.

"He came back last night," she says.

"He never left.”

“You know what I mean," she adds, before I can say it. "He stayed at the fence."

"Tonight," she says.

"What about it?"

"If someone comes back." She hesitates.

My chest tightens. "I don't know."

"That's the part you hate."

"Yes."

She gives me a small smile. "You told me I didn't have to know what happens next."

"When?" I don’t remember that.