When I pulled back, her eyes were telling me their own story. “I’ve fallen for you. Not tripped, not landed on my hands and skinned a knee. I’m talking completely, totally, head-over-heels … fallen.”

I kissed her again, swallowing her admission, each syllable adding to the chain that was clenching my chest.

“When will I see you?”

I shook my head, the answer so unknown.

Traveling on a flight that far, in a position that still caused me so much pain, wasn’t something I could consider at this point. If I gave her an approximation, I wanted to be able to deliver. I wasn’t the guy who was going to fill her with bullshit and renege.

“But you promise I’ll see you again?” When I didn’t immediately respond, she added, “Say the words, Caleb. I need to hear them.”

“Yes.” I nodded. “You will.”

She stood on her toes and wrapped me in a hug, clinging to the back of my shirt with her hands.

“You need to be careful out there,” I said. “Those villages aren’t Mass General.”

“Of course.”

I held her so tightly that I wasn’t sure she could breathe. “If I can’t be there to protect you, I need to know you’re going to be all right.”

“I’ll be fine—that I can promise.”

As I captured her lips, I felt a rattle in her arms and a quiver in her navel. “Baby, you’re going to do amazing things for those countries. I’m already so incredibly proud of you.”

“I wouldn’t have had the courage to go if it wasn’t for you. And aside from this”—she touched the spot over my heart—“that’s the biggest gift you’ve given me.”

I lifted her fingers, kissing each knuckle. “I had Alfred put something in your bag. It’s small, nothing extravagant.” I kept her hand up to my face, the softness of her skin brushing my lips. “Since your journal was filled with cities you wanted to see, I gave you one that’s for the places you’ll be visiting. Write about your experiences, the beauty you see while you’re there.” Something began to chew away at my stomach. “Maybe, one day, I’ll get to read those words.”

“Caleb …” She clutched my shoulders and buried her face in my neck.

“I don’t want to let you go.” Emotion was clawing up my body. “I want to kiss you tomorrow morning while you’re sleeping on my chest and sweep your long hair off your cheeks.” The feeling reached my throat, burrowing there, not going any further. “And I want to cook dinner for us in the evening and have you climb on top of me after, giving me that beautiful body of yours.”

“Oh God,” she cried.

I loosened my grip, reclining her back so I could take in her eyes. “I love you, Whitney.”