Page 135 of Break Me

“Look at me,” he murmurs.

When I open my eyes, he's already looking at me.

His expression is so unguarded it catches me off balance. The fear is still there, just beneath the surface, but it isn't the only thing I see.

I see the man who refused to accept the first answer.

The man who’ll move heaven and earth if it means finding another one.

The man who came home to me.

His hand cups my cheek, his thumb brushing away a tear I hadn't realized had fallen.

For a long moment, neither of us moves. His forehead rests against mine, our breaths mingling in the quiet between us.

"I love you," he says, the words so soft they almost disappear.

A tear slips free, and I smile through it.

“Then don’t spend tonight saying goodbye," I whisper. "Love me.”

His eyes close, and the breath that leaves him feels almost like surrender—not to the diagnosis, but to us.

When he opens them again, I see the decision settle over him.

Not fear.

Not grief.

Unconditional Love.

He kisses me again, and when he finally closes the last of the distance between us, he does it slowly, giving me every chance to stop him.

I never do.

Instead, I wrap my arms around him and hold him as close as I can.

Tomorrow will still be waiting for us.

Tonight belongs to us.

We come apart in each other’s arms, holding on like neither of us is ready to let go. I cling to him as he breathes against my neck.

After a moment, he slowly rolls to my side, one arm still wrapped around me. He slides his free hand to my chest, resting over my heart as if he’s counting the beats.

I cover his hand with mine and feel the tension still living in his fingers. He won't let himself fall apart. Not tonight. Not in front of me. That's so entirely him that it makes me love him harder and ache for him all at once.

"I want you to remember me like this," I whisper.

He lifts his head. His eyes are fierce.

"I'm not memorizing you because you're not leaving."

I smile faintly. "Memorize me anyway."

Something crosses his face, too many things at once before he pulls me into his chest, leaving no space between us.

He holds me like he can anchor me here by will alone.