“And I understand that, too. If you want to shove that love you don’t feel for me into a little box and file it away in your emotional basement so you can survive these next three months, then be my guest. It’s not like I get a say anyway, right?” His words were at odds with the smirk he wore. “So fine, file me away, Kitty. Live your life. Start your new job. Finish up your therapy and heal. But just like I can’t make you stay with me, you can’t stop me from loving you.”

The man was insane. Maybe he was the one who needed therapy if he couldn’t see that I was rejecting him. Are you, though? Nice necklace.

“So that’s exactly what I’m going to do. I’m going to love you so hard that three months will be a pencil dot on our timeline.”

Mercy.

“I’m going to love you so well that you’ll never doubt that I choose you. Every day. Every situation. I choose you.”

I melted. I’d waited a lifetime for those very words.

“I’m choosing you today by telling you that your well-being is more important than my ego or my need for reassurance. I’ll choose you every single day that I’m gone, every mission that I fly, every second that I breathe. You don’t have to be with me. I’ll be with you.”

I swallowed. “And what if I start seeing someone else?” Not that I was going to. Jackson was it for me. That’s what made this whole thing so fucking impossible.

“Five. Minutes.” He pointed to the minute remaining on the clock, and the pulse leaped in his neck. His knuckles whitened, and his jaw ticked twice. “If you want to see someone else, then I guess that’s your prerogative, seeing as you’re single.”

Well, that hadn’t been the response I’d expected. Did that mean he—

“As for me, I have a girlfriend I love more than life, so the only action I’ll be getting is this hand”—he raised his right—“fueled by your picture and enough memories of making love to you to last way longer than three months. You don’t have to be mine. I’m yours.”

My lips parted and my thighs buzzed. Stupid sex drive.

“And you’d better tell whatever guy you date to be prepared for a fight, because the minute I get off that plane, I’m coming straight for you. When I tell you that I’m coming home, I mean it. And, Morgan, you. Are. My. Home.” His eyes churned with longing and resolve.

Fuck my life, he was breaking down my own resolve.