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“You can keep an eye on me without hovering.”
“Not very well. So you’re going to have to put up with my hovering for a while.”
He makes a face but doesn’t argue. We sit in bad-tempered silence until he mutters, “You shouldn’t have said that to the doctor.”
“Said what?” I’m confused for a minute before I think back to the earlier conversation. “What? About saying you’re my partner? Why shouldn’t I say that?”
“You know why.”
“No, I don’t. It’s true, so I’m going to say it.”
He doesn’t say anything. Just looks at me. And I know how to interpret that pained reluctance on his face.
“Caleb?” My voice is soft, gentle, despite the rising panic in my heart at what I know is coming. I thought he was just grumpy because of the injury, but there’s more going on with him than that. “Why shouldn’t I say it?”
“I’m sorry, Louisa. I really am.” His face—normally so stoic—twists in obvious emotion.
I straighten up and clear my throat, putting both my hands on my lap. I’m tempted to reach out and strangle Caleb for being so endlessly stubborn, but this is him. It’s always been him.
I wouldn’t love him if he were anyone else.
“You can’t tell me that you don’t want this,” I say. “If you try to tell me that, I won’t believe you.”
“Of course I want this. I want you. You know I do.”
“Then there’s no reason we can’t be together.”
“There are reasons. There are still reasons. I just…” He glances away as his words trail off.
He doesn’t look grumpy anymore. He doesn’t look hard or obstinate or confident. He doesn’t look like he’s sure of what he’s doing right now.
He looks wounded.
And oddly it gives me comfort. It gives me courage.
He isn’t set on this. He’s still holding on to all the emotional tangles and roadblocks that have kept us apart in the past, but he won’t necessarily be holding on to them forever.
“You can’t tell me you don’t love me.” I reach to take his hand.
He doesn’t pull his away. His eyes are full, fierce. “Of course I love you. You know I do.”
“Okay then. There’s no problem. Because I love you too.”
I see the sudden blaze of joy in his eyes. I see it before he turns his face away.
It’s beautiful. Shattering. As real as anything I’ve ever known.
“I love you, Caleb. I said it earlier not because I thought you were going to die. I said it because it’s true. I love you, and you love me. It seems pretty stupid for us not to be together.”
He turns back to meet my eyes, having contained the flood of feeling. His expression is composed. “You’ve just been through a real crisis. More than a month’s worth of danger. What you’re feeling now might not be?—”
“Oh, just shut up about that. It’s ridiculous. I wanted you a long time before I was ever in danger.”
“Even so. Relationships that happen in these kinds of situations don’t always have the foundation they need to survive. I’m not just using this as an excuse. It’s a real thing. I’m not sure we should trust?—”
“Me? You don’t think we should trustme? My feelings?”
“That’s not what I mean.” He looks torn again. Aching. “I’m not sure we should trust… us.”
