Page 293 of Reaper Said Mine

Instinct. Need. Love. All tangled together.

"You weren't the only one," I say softly.

His brow furrows.

I laugh once, the sound small and fragile.

"Takes two people to have a terrible relationship argument across half the galaxy."

That earns the faintest hint of amusement.

"I was so focused on being right."

His expression softens.

"I know."

"I kept chasing evidence."

My throat tightens.

"And every time another crisis happened, every time another casualty report arrived, every time another fleet moved, I felt farther away from you."

The words scrape on the way out.

"I started wondering if we'd survive this."

Gnash goes still. Not physically. Something deeper freezes behind his eyes.

I look down at our joined hands.

"I don't mean the war."

His grip tightens.

"I mean us."

The admission settles heavily between us.

I've been carrying it for weeks, refusing to look directly at it. Losing him terrified me. Losing what we were building terrified me almost as much.

For several seconds he doesn't speak.

Then his chair scrapes softly across the floor.

He moves closer.

Close enough that I can see every silver thread in his hair, every scar, every line etched there by responsibility and grief.

Every piece of the man I nearly lost.

"Look at me."

His voice is gentle.

I do.

His eyes are bright. Reapers don't express emotion exactly like humans, but I know him well enough to read what lives behind that gaze.