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“There’s nothing wrong with you,” I say. “You’re just sad right now. It’ll get better.”
“Will it?”
I nod, forehead moving against his, noses bumping together.
“We will get through this. You and me. Together. I promise.”
He closes his eyes and exhales.
“I don’t want you to stay just because you feel like you can’t leave me now that I’m all pathetic,” he chokes out. “I want you, but please don’t do it like this.”
I take his face in my hands and pull away enough that I can look him straight in the eye.
“It’s my fault,” I say. “This whole mess. I was a coward. I thought… No, I didn’t think. I was just scared, and then instead of feeling what I feel, I tried not to feel anything.” I kiss the tip of his nose, and he sucks in a breath before he opens his eyes and meets my gaze again. “I love you,” I say. “I’m in love with you, and I love you, and I want everything with you because you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
He nods. Just once at first, but then the nodding continues and becomes more determined, and then he falls into me and kisses me and kisses me and kisses me.
“I love you too,” he finally says.
Those words make the last scattered pieces of me click into place, and everything settles inside me. Storm clouds part. I’m safe and sound and wanted, and it doesn’t scare me anymore.
I’m all in.
I want him to know.
So I get up.
“Wait here,” I say.
He snorts. “Yeah, there’s no way I’m getting up from this floor without your help, so consider it done, I guess.”
I grin at him, and he grins back.
“Where are you going?” he asks.
“I have something for you,” I throw over my shoulder. I go to my bag and find the box and I’m back in mere seconds. I kneel in front of him and take his hand, placing it palm up in front of me. I hold my own hand above his and open my fingers. The long, delicate, gold chain that’s threaded between them unravels, and the ring on the chain hits Ryker’s palm.
He looks at it for a long, silent moment, then looks up and meets my gaze.
“I got this for you before I came to the game,” I say.
He swallows hard, eyes moving back to the ring in his palm. He stares at it for so long that I’m beginning to get nervous. The chain moves as my hand shakes.
Finally, he looks up.
“You want to study my migration patterns?” he asks. The joke is resting on a solid foundation of pure hope.
I roll my eyes and drop the chain into his palm, too.
“I thought… I thought you could wear this. Probably would raise some eyebrows on your finger, but I figured maybe like this?” I tap the chain. “And then maybe one day…”
I shrug and leave the sentence hanging in the air.
He slides his thumb over the ring and the chain. And then he takes the chain and slides it over his head. The ring settles on his chest. Close to his heart.
I bite my lip because I’m feeling stupidly emotional. I reach out my hand and slide my fingertips over the cool metal surface.
“Perfect,” I say.
