Page 17

His back teeth ground together. He hated that thought. “Not for a long fucking time.”

“But when that day does come—”

“People will go to your burial.”

She tilted her head. “Will you go to my burial, even if it rains?”

“You’re not—”

“I know. I’m not going to die for a long fucking time .” His lips twitched. “But when I do…will you go to my burial if it rains?”

“I’d go to your burial in a hurricane.”

A slow smile curved her lips. “You would not.”

“I would. But I won’t have to. Because I’m dying first.”

She laughed, and the sound hit him in the fucking chest. “I don’t think so. You know too many ways to defend yourself, and you won’t let sickness take you down. I’m definitely going first. And when I do, I’ll be watching from the sky to make sure you cry at my burial.”

He squeezed her thigh. “I believe you.”

“Good.” She yawned and closed her eyes. “Do laced brownies make you tired?”

“Yeah, they do.”

“Good. This is good. A new life experience. I like adding those to the list. I’m not even mad at Scarlett anymore.”

He was.

Clara suddenly lay down and pillowed her head on his lap.

For a moment, he was still. So still that he didn’t move a single muscle. Because she felt good against him. Really damn good.

Then she reached behind her for his wrist and placed his hand on her waist. “Mm. It feels good to have your arm around me.”

“Yeah, it does.” He hadn’t meant for that drop of truth to come out, but it had.

He caressed her hip with his thumb, neither of them watching the movie.

“Holden?”

“Yeah, honey?”

“Is it because I was sick?”

Something hard and uncomfortable lodged in his gut. “Is what because you were sick?”

“Is that why you’re scared to love me? Because you think I’m damaged or less than…or I’m more at risk of getting sick again?”

He cursed before gently tugging her up so he could see her face. “No. You’re perfect . Everything about you is perfect. And I never want to hear you say anything to contradict that again.”

She swallowed, her gaze shifting between his eyes. “Then what is it?”

“It’s me. It’s all me.” His chest rose and fell, and the words just tumbled out. “I’m scared to love because I can’t allow a person to become my entire world. I never want that power to be put into another person’s hands again.”

“Why?” she whispered.

“Because when they leave, my whole world crumbles.”

Her frown was deep as she studied him. “Because of your mom?”

“Yeah. She was my only family. My best friend. And when she got sick, she told me— promised me —that she was going to be okay. And then I watched her become sicker and sicker, year by year, and I was helpless to do anything about it. I watched her die, and I couldn’t protect her from that.”

“You can’t protect everyone.”

“Exactly.”

Tears gathered in her eyes. “So you learned that love hurts.”

“I learned that love leaves you vulnerable and is inherently painful and doomed to end.”

Pain cut across Clara’s features. “Maybe.” She reached out and cupped his cheek.

“But love is also the most magical and powerful emotion in the world. It can make you feel things, good things, that nothing else can ever make you feel. I believe that to have loved, even if it ended in loss, is better than never to have loved at all.”

He tried to swallow, but his throat felt fucking dry. “What if when you lose the person you love, you also lose yourself?”

“I lost myself the day the doctor told me I had cancer. But then I became someone else. A more authentic, more resilient version of who I was. Losing yourself doesn’t have to be bad.”

“I didn’t notice a change in you. You were always authentic and resilient to me.”

One side of her mouth lifted. “Are you just saying that because I’m high?”

A soft laugh slipped from his lips. “I’m saying that because it’s true.”

There was a small pause, and the slight smile fell from Clara’s mouth. “I wish things were different.”

He wished he was different. Stronger. More willing to risk his heart.

She yawned again before leaning her head against his shoulder.

Instinctively, his arm went around her. He leaned his head against hers and closed his eyes. It felt good to hold her. For a second, he could almost convince himself she was his.

He wasn’t sure how long they sat that way. At some point, the movie ended and the room fell into silence, with Clara’s soft breathing the only sound in the room.

Even when he knew she was asleep, he didn’t move. He wanted to stay exactly where he was and just hold her for as long as he could.

But eventually, he knew he had to get up.

Gently, he slipped one arm around her back and the other behind her legs and stood. She sighed and snuggled into him.

When he reached her bedroom, he gently slid her into bed and tucked the sheet and blanket around her. He was about to leave when she spoke.

“Holden?”

“Yeah, honey?”

“Can I tell you what I think?”

“You always do.”

Her eyes opened, her indigo eyes beaming into him. “There’s a future version of you who’s standing in the clouds watching, screaming down at you that you’re stronger than you think. You should listen to him. He’s very wise.”

Her words hit him hard in the gut, knocking the air right out of him.

He slipped a lock of hair from her cheek. “You make me want to be stronger.”

“Then do it.”