“I’m sorry I cried all over you,” I said.

“That’s what I’m here for. I’m your personal tissue. Among other, more fun things, but I’m multipurpose.”

I cracked a grin as I stared into nothing. “I like those more fun things.”

“I know.”

Curling my fingers against his taut stomach, I drew in a breath and was surprised that it felt steady and didn’t hurt. It would be a long time before I fully accepted my role in Charlie’s fate. Maybe I would never absolve myself of guilt completely, but I wanted to try. I really, honestly, wanted to try for the first time.

“Can I tell you something?” Reece asked.

“You can tell me anything.”

“I’m going to hold you to that statement in the future,” he said dryly. “I don’t like to ever say good-­bye.”

My brows knitted. “I . . . I remember you saying that once.”

“I did. I told you we never say good-­bye. We kiss instead. Hell, we can say anything to each other, but not good-­bye.”

“Why?” I whispered, but I thought I already had a good idea to why.

There was a pause. “It’s too permanent, especially in my line of work, the last thing I ever want you to hear from me is good-­bye. And that sure as hell will never be the last thing I say to you.”

I shivered as I thought about one day facing a phone call or a knock on the door from—­I pushed those thoughts out of my head. That wasn’t trying to take a risk. I would not, could not allow myself to think about the possibility of him not coming home one day.

“There’s something I want you to know, Roxy. I’m a stubborn motherfucker. You know that. I’m not going to disappear on you without one hell of a fight. I can promise you that.”

My eyes burned, and I thought there was a good chance I might start crying again.

With my head somewhat clear, a huge part of me now recognized how . . . how weak it was to keep someone away from you just because you might lose them one day. How silly it was. But there was still a little piece of me that wanted to retreat and not take that risk. I just couldn’t give in to that fear.

“Do you think I’m crazy now?” I asked in a quiet voice.

He chuckled and I liked how the sound rumbled under my cheek. “Babe, I’ve always thought you were a little crazy. That’s what I love about you.”

Hearing him say that now, when my head was sort of screwed on right, stole my breath. “Can you say that again?”

He slipped his hand down my jaw and tilted my head back. Our eyes met, and his chest rose deeply. “I saw them,” he said.

I frowned. “Saw what?”