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“At the start of the year I decided to use my drawing skills for something more,” she started. “I shared my art online, and started making mini-comics. Apparently people like it, and I’m making some money from it already.”

Pride filled his chest. “There is nothing you can’t do.”

“I started making a monster romance graphic novel. It’s been really fun, and my followers are excited about it. If I can get that going, I might be able to support myself solely with my art and writing.”

He took her hand and squeezed it. “You should do what makes you happy. Your art is stunning, and everyone deserves to see it and appreciate it.”

“You’re a sap,” Naomi whispered, chuckling softly.

Kilean hesitated a moment before he asked, “And what about your private life?”

“I tried a few dates, but no one is sticking out. There was one woman I thought would be the one, but our personalities were too different.”

Naomi was everything he had. He didn’t want her, however, to live like him and only have one thing to look forward to. Her life was different from his, finite and full of promise, so he wanted her to live it to the fullest.

Because of that, they had made an agreement a few years ago that Naomi would look for affection elsewhere, too. Naomi knew she couldn’t tell people about him, but she always made sure to approach potential partners with the idea of open relationships or polyamory, telling them she had someone else that she wouldn’t give up on. From what she had told him, Naomi had met many people who were okay with the arrangement. While she had adventures with some of them, she had never managed to form a connection with anyone—one deep enough to want them to stay permanently, at least.

If Naomi ever fell in love with someone, Kilean would find a way to be okay with letting her go. And if she wanted to keep them both, he’d be happy with that.

She sighed quietly. “I don’t think I’ll ever find anyone to fill your spot, to be honest.”

“Naomi…”

He called her name in a whisper, as if worried that saying it out loud would make her disappear.

“I know, I know. You can’t stay, I know.”

Her voice was sad, but not irritated. He would have preferred that she was mad, to yell at him that he wasn’t doing enough, or to stop bothering her and giving her false hopes. All of that would have hurt less than her simply accepting this life, of waiting for this night every year and never asking him how the trial was going, too worried that talking about it would sadden him.

He cherished these rare and blessed moments with her, but part of him still wished more for her. She deserved more than him and what he could offer.

“I can feel it getting closer,” he confessed, quietly. “But I think I still have a few years in front of me.”

He truly, truly, hoped the end was near. The process was draining him, and the uncertainty was hurting both of them.

“It’s okay,” she repeated in a whisper. “Waiting is hard, but I’m glad I can have you at least once a year.”

She smiled, then, her eyes unfocusing as if looking for something inside her memories. “Our routine is pretty nice, actually. Coming here every year, meeting you, spending some time in the snow, then having my friends and family join me right around Christmas. This place is so pretty, and it holds such beautiful memories for me now.”

It pleased him to know she had made great memories there, that she was living well even when he wasn’t present, and that she was coming back to the chalet because she loved it, and not just to wait for him.

He had been doing his duty for so long that he couldn’t even remember a time when he was young. For so long, his life had no meaning until he met her. Now, he could work himself to the bone every day, knowing that after all that work, his reward would be spending time with her. He could undergo years of hardships to improve himself, knowing she would welcome him with open arms when he finally achieved his goal.

She had saved his life that first day, when she found him bloodied and unconscious in the woods. If only she knew all the ways in which she really rescued him.

“Your affection is the only thing keeping me going,” he admitted. “You should know, if I never cross that threshold again, it’ll never be my choice. If you don’t see me again, it’s because it was something bigger than me. If you don’t see me again, I would likely be dead.”

Sadness immediately flooded her eyes. “Do you have to be so catastrophic?”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, brushing his knuckles against her cheek. “I just need you to know where I stand.”

“I hope nothing ever happens to you.”

“I hope that, too. I want to keep coming back and see you gradually become gray like me.”

If he didn’t do anything stupid, he would likely live for much, much longer than her lifespan. If he could permanently stay by her side until the end of her days, he’d be happy.

She opened her mouth in a big yawn, her hand slow to cover it. “Sorry,” she mumbled.