Page 143 of Saxon

"No, no, no. You shushy time." She puts a hand over my mouth. "Repeat after me."

"Em—"

"SHUSH. Repeat after me."

I sigh. "Fine. Weirdo."

"I…"

I roll my eyes. "I…"

"Love…"

My heart freezes. "Em."

"Say it."

"They're just words."

"No, they're not."

"Say it." She takes my mouth in her fingers and squishes my lips together as If I'm a puppet. "I…love…you."

"Mmmmm—" I try, but she's still pinching my lips together.

"You've processed, Terra. He gave you three days, no questions asked. He married you, on a whim. You murdered a criminal for him. You've been here in this sweet-ass fucking penthouse for three days, alone, eating junk food and freaking out. Now. You've had your freakout…get over it, woman. You love him. You know it, he knows it, I know it, his friends all know it. You're making a big deal out of nothing."

"Telling a man you love him is a big fuckin' deal, Emily."

"Why? Because he doesn’t know?"

"No, because—" I fail to find a reason. "Because…well shit."

"Because you're scared of the words. You think they have some magical, mystical power. They don't." She wiggles her butt on my thighs. "Watch this. I hate you, Terra. I hate you, I hate you, I hate you." She widens her eyes at me. "Did that make it real?"

"You're grossly oversimplifying things."

"No, you're grossly overcomplicating things. They're just words. They don't make anything happen. You're putting undue weight on this. You're holding yourself back. I know you love me, even though you've never said it to me. He knows you love him, and that’s what makes it real. You saying the words to him or not saying the words to him, that doesn't change the fact that you do."

"I want to say it."

"I know, dummy. That's why we're doing this. You're gonna practice on me." She pats my cheeks. "Now. Try it, one word at a time. It won't hurt, I promise. Cupid won't strike you down with a flaming arrow."

I roll my eyes. Grip her wrists. "I…love…you."

Emily gazes around in dramatic terror, cringing as if waiting for the aforementioned arrow from Cupid's bow. "We're alive!" She looks at me with wide, wonder-filled eyes. "You did it!"

"You're such a bitch," I laugh. "So mean."

She shrugs. "I know."

I hold her wrists and meet her eyes. "I wasn't just saying it, Em. I was saying it to you. You saved my life. Taught me how to live—you showed me how to be myself. I literally wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you, so…I…I…I love you, Emily. You're not just my best friend, you're my soulmate."

"Bosom buddies," she whispers, laughing.

"Buddies with bosoms."

At that moment, I hear the private elevator ding, and the doors open.