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I’m not sure if he’s talking about the sale or my death. Either way, we both know I can’t stay. “It’s okay. You’re just doing your job. Speaking of leaving, you’ll be gone after tonight, huh?”
“No.” Ellister’s refusal is swift and sure, and it draws my attention back to his face.
Confused, I tilt my head. “Didn’t my dad give you the accounting stuff?”
“As you said, you’ve had others come to the farm—people who arrived and never left.”
It’s my turn to stare, and I’m very direct when I ask, “Why are you still here, Ellister?”
Instead of giving me a straight answer, he reaches over to tenderly caress my cheek. “It bothers me that your clothes don’t fit you anymore. I hate that you’re in pain. I hate watching you struggle to walk.”
The mental image of his view of me is the worst mirror.
“I’m sorry you have to see me this way,” I whisper, my words barely heard over the reverberating speakers. “I wish you could’ve met the healthy version of me. The one who’s vibrant, active, and funny.”
“Hey, you’re still those things. That’s exactly how I would describe you.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes. That, and more. So much more.” His finger trails to my jaw, then down my neck.
His touch leaves tingles in the line he draws down my arm, and his warm palm covers my hand.
My heart goes wild as our fingers link.
A chilled breeze blows in, and I shiver. Ellister scoots closer, pressing us together as he gathers me in his arms.
I snuggle into his body, soaking up his warmth.
I’ve never felt safer or more content than I do now, and I’m just grateful for every minute I have with him. “So, how long will you stay, then?”
“As long as I have to.”
That vague statement requires clarification. “As long as you have to for what?”
“To be here with you.”
Stunned, I blink. “Are you saying you’ll… stay until—the end?”
“Is that what you want?” There’s a tinge of hope in his question.
“More than anything.”
I hear him swallow. “Then, I will.”
“Why?”
“Because you need me.”
How does he know that? Am I really so transparent? I guess I am.
I’m literally clinging to him for dear life. “Don’t you have more important things to do?”
“Like what?”
“Like report back to your boss?”
“I will at some point.”
