Page 170 of Sunrise & Serenity

“I thought…” I stop, then start again. “I thought if I left first, it’d hurt less.”

“And did it?” she asks.

“No.” My ribs hollow. “No, it didn’t.”

She glances away toward the dark hospital window. “You hurt me, Holden.”

The words hit harder than getting stepped on by a bull ever did. Because they’re true. And because she says them so quietly. Not angry, just tired.

I don’t look away from her. “I know.”

For a moment, neither of us speaks, then I force myself to continue. “I don’t know what you’re going to decide.”

She blinks at me. “About what?”

I gesture vaguely. “Everything. Milan. New York. Wild Ember.”

Brows rising, she searches my face.

“I came back because I needed to talk to you before you make your choice.”

Something flickers in her eyes. Hope, fear, maybe both. “What?” she whispers.

I swallow past the lump in my throat and inch forward, wanting to get closer. “I love you. Looking back, I think I was screwed from the minute you stepped out of your car in the rain and mud and smiled at me like there was nothing strange about it.” Her lips part, pink staining her cheeks. I keep going before I lose my nerve. “You never asked me to be anybody other than who I was. And I got scared and ran.”

I let myself take her hand, turning it over and brushing my thumb across her soft palm. “I spent the last week trying to convince myself I could go back to my old life.” I shake my head. “Turns out every road led back to you.” I gently tighten my grip. “And there’s no running from that.”

Emotion flashes across her face, though she hides it quickly.

I lean forward slightly. “If Milan is what you want, I’ll go with you.”

Her eyes widen.

“I mean it.”

She sucks in a breath. “Holden⁠—”

“Or if New York is what you want, I’ll go there too.” I hold her gaze. “If Wild Ember is where you want to stay…” My voice roughens. “Then I’ll spend the rest of my life grateful that I finally smartened up and came back home.”

For a long moment, she looks at me. I can’t read her expression. There’s too much emotion there. Too much exhaustion.

Her mouth trembles, and she lets out a shaky breath. “You really mean that?”

“Yeah. Every part of it.” And I do. There’s not a place in this world I wouldn’t follow her if that’s what she wants.

Her gaze drops to where I’m still holding her hand. When she looks up at me again, her eyes are glossy, and there’s something fragile in her expression. “You don’t get to say things like that and expect me to know what to do with them. Not when my head hurts and I can’t think straight.”

The rawness in her voice tears at my heart. “I know.”

Her lashes drift shut for a second before opening again.

“Sage—”

“I’m trying really hard not to cry,” she admits.

I have to swallow before I can speak. “You don’t have to try so hard, sweetheart.”

A faint smile touches her lips before fading again. “I’m really tired.”