"Lily," he said, the tone of his voice tortured. "I want you just as you are. I just . . . I want you, and—"
"Please," I interrupted. "Please don't say that now." I brought two fingers up to his lips. "Please think about what I've told you. Consider what you're agreeing to. Consider what a life with me would be like. What a life between the two of us would mean. Please, Ryan. Please do that for me. And if you think about it and decide it's not best for you, for either of us, then you'll be honest with me, right? You'll be honest with me because you're good and kind and because you love me." I brought my fingers from his lips and used my hand to cup his cheek. Slight prickles of a new beard lightly scratched my palm. He closed his eyes and leaned in to my hand for several moments.
When he finally opened his eyes, he nodded, his expression so very solemn. "Okay. Yes, I'll always be honest with you. Always."
I let out a breath and nodded. "I know," I said. "I trust you, Boy Scout." I gave him a tremulous smile. "I've trusted you from the moment I met you."
Ryan leaned in and placed his forehead against mine and we both breathed together for several moments. "Will you tell me what happened at Whittington? How you found me and how your grandmother came to be there?"
I nodded. "Yes."
Ryan sat back and I cleared my throat. "I found you in the woods, right near Whittington. You'd fallen into a very shallow ravine. You looked to be mostly bruised and scratched, more so from your walk through the woods than from your fall."
"I was trying to get to you."
I nodded, bringing my hand up to his cheek again. "I know." I brought my hand away and continued, "I used a thick quilt and moved you onto it and dragged you to Whittington. And then I used your phone to call my grandmother. She was a nurse before she met my grandfather . . . Anyway, I knew she'd be able to help you." I shook my head. "I probably should have called an ambulance, but I didn't think you'd broken anything vital, and there was no blood—"
"You did just fine. I was fine."
I nodded, still feeling guilty. "Anyway, my grandmother assessed you and agreed to help as long as I promised to check myself into a hospital. Finding me there, muddy and frantic, learning that I'd been living at Whittington with my . . . mother," I bit my lip and closed my eyes briefly, "she was worried and heartbroken to say the least." I sighed, recalling that confrontation, the arguments, the tears. "I said I would check myself into a hospital as long as it was one near you. When we returned you to the lodge, I found your bag with a luggage tag on it with your name, faded and hard to read, but there. It just confirmed what I already suspected—that your name is Ryan. Ryan Ellis. My grandmother looked up the rest of your information." I paused. That whole time was so murky. I'd been filled with grief, with fear. I'd let my grandmother handle the details while I walked through the days as if I was half asleep. Grief does that to you. "Later, my grandmother rented a house in Marin, and we were going to return to Colorado after my treatment was complete."
"So you and your grandmother drove me to Brandon's lodge and carried me upstairs?"
"Between the two of us, yes," I said. "You helped a bit, but my grandma had given you a mild sleep medication."
"I thought so," he muttered. "Thank you for taking care of me." He looked down for a moment. "God, Lily, what you did for me." He raised his eyes to mine, and they were filled with an emotion I couldn't define. "You agreed to go to a hospital for an undetermined amount of time. Because of me. It's like going to prison. I know. I," his voice cracked, "I don't even know what to say about that, how to express to you how grateful I am."
I shook my head, looking down at my lap. "I would have done anything for you, Ryan, made any sacrifice. And deep inside, I knew I was sick, too. I knew. Despite my worry for you, I knew I needed treatment myself."
Ryan was silent for a moment, his eyes roaming my face. "You must have been so," he paused as if searching for the right word, "surprised to discover who I really was, what I was going through."
"Yes," I said. The word broke and I cleared my throat. "I knew we couldn't be together, knew I wasn't good for you, but I loved you. I still do. I still love you."
"Lily," he said, pulling me to him again, "I love you, too. We will never be perfect or without flaws, the lives we've been given are not like that. But, Lily, in my heart, you are perfect for me. Perfectly mine. And I'm yours."
The heat suddenly flowing through my veins surprised me. After everything we'd just talked about, after baring all my secrets, revealing every last skeleton, I could hardly believe I was capable of feeling desire. And yet I did. Ryan leaned away slightly so he could look in my eyes. "Can I kiss you?" he asked.
"Yes," I murmured softly, leaning in and brushing my lips over his.