“Every moment—every single fucking one—that I’ve spent with you has been a good one. The best moments of my life. So I have no interest in being ‘spared’ the possible pain of losing someone I love. Because I love you. And I’m sick of hiding it,” I tell her, and she goes completely still.

“What did you say?” she whispers, her breath hitching.

“I love you, hummingbird,” I repeat, my voice low and full of conviction. “I love you so damn much that I don’t know what to do with it sometimes. It’s like it’s too much for my heart to handle, like it’s overflowing. When you hurt, I hurt too. That’s how I know it’s real.”

“Declan…” she breathes, her eyes wide and luminous with tears. “I… I love you too.”

She whispers the words through trembling lips, and something unlocks inside my chest. I can’t stop myself from leaning in to press my lips to hers. I want to kiss her so deeply that there’s no space left between us, no separation at all between our bodies, hearts, and souls. But I hold back the intensity of it, letting my emotions pour through the connection of our lips as gently as I can. She’s been through a lot, and I don’t want to hurt or overwhelm her.

When the kiss finally ends, I can’t help going back for one small peck, and I brush my nose against hers as I beg, “Say it again.”

“I love you.”

I make a contented sound. “Fuck, those are the best three words I’ve ever heard.”

She laughs softly, then draws back a bit, swiping at her tears as she looks me in the eyes. “But what about whatever this is? What will happen if I’m sick?”

I shake my head. “We’ll deal with it, whatever it might be. I’m not leaving your side, now or ever. Do you understand me?”

Her breath hitches, and she nods. “Thank you.”

She melts into me again, clutching at my back and shoulders, and I stroke her hair carefully and murmur into her ear that everything’s going to be okay, that she has nothing to worry about as long as I’m here. We’ll get her the best medical care money can buy. I’ll drive or fly her to the furthest reaches of the world to see any specialist she needs.

I hold her until she finally falls asleep, then gently lie her head back on her pillow. I lose track of time as I keep stroking her hair, hoping it’s helping her sleep.

After a while, the door clicks open, and I glance over my shoulder to find Dunaway standing in the entrance to the room, his tie loosened and his jacket a bit askew. He looks exhausted—like a man who’s been through hell and back.