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I want to say it. God knows, too well, how much I want to say it. But the words stick to the roof of my mouth, blocked by my thickening tongue.
“No,” I croak. “I can’t… Not while she’s alive.”
“She’s not waking up, Taylor. We both know that.” He’s quick to catch the next falling tear with his thumb. “And you’re going to have to make a decision about that soon.”
“A-about what…?”
“I spoke to Dr. Baranov before we left. He recommends that we take her off life support in a few days if there’s still no improvement. But the decision is ultimately yours.”
“And if I choose not to?
Ilarion lowers his hand to my shoulder and gives me a comforting squeeze. “Then we keep her as she is, and try to make her body as comfortable as possible for as long as you need to say goodbye.”
I flinch as a bolt of lightning zigzags through the sky. Raindrops pepper the roof in a sudden torrent. They sound like the tears in my heart every time I think about Celine.
I take a deep breath and meet his beautiful, somber eyes. My body’s tingling for him, despite everything. It feels like a shame to spoil this feeling with regret and guilt.
“Don’t you feel bad?” I ask.
“Yes,” he admits with a slow nod. “But I’ve lived with worse things.”
The rain is coming down in heavy sheets now, but I can still see the mountains through the kitchen windows. It feels a little on the nose, considering what my life is like at the moment. Sporadic crying with glimpses of happiness, and a large, immovable, impassible mountain of a man looming over me.
“It’s easier for you,” I say. “She was your fiancée for a few days. She’s been my sister my whole life. My best friend. She was—oh, God, I’m already talking about her in the past tense.”
“I have a solution for that,” Ilarion says gently. “Let’s stop talking about her at all.”
My eyes go wide. “We can’t just forget—”
“Yes, we can,” he insists. “Up here, in these mountains, in this cabin, we don’t need to talk about anything or anyone that isn’t present. It’s you and me and that’s it. Leave the rest of the world down below us.”
“But—”
“Not ‘buts,” he says firmly. “It’s you and me, Taylor. No rules. No relationships. No doubts or guilt. No judgment and no consequences. Just…freedom.”
I take a deep breath. “You and me.”
“That’s right, baby,” he murmurs, his lips tickling my ear. “Tell me that doesn’t sound good.”
Fuck,I’d follow this man into the mouth of hell if he whispered in my ear long enough. I look over his shoulder at the rain pelting down on the pine trees, and I want to melt into his arms and never, ever leave.
“It sounds perfect.” I close my eyes for a moment and finish the thought in my head.Forgive me for feeling this way.
“You have goosebumps,” he suddenly remarks, pulling back. “I’ll get more firewood.”
He moves toward the fireplace. I stare out at the rain. My head doesn’t catch up with my feet until I’m standing out on the porch, the rainfall misting on my skin.
“Taylor, what are you doing?” Ilarion calls out after me.
I turn to face him. “No rules, right?” A silly grin spreads across my lips. “Just…freedom.”
Then I walk backwards, right into the rain, spreading my arms out and turning my face up to the sky. I hear Ilarion swear, and then the sound of his footsteps as he runs onto the porch.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
I laugh maniacally. “I’m being free!” I say, throwing my hands up in the air as I start dancing. “Come on! Dance with me.”
“You’ll catch pneumonia. Come back inside.”
