“I am serious.”
“So am I.”
He looked toward the open doorway.
“Your mother is correct about one thing. You will always have to explain us.”
“Noah.”
“People will stare. They will insult you. They will question why you chose me.”
“They already do.”
“I can stop it.”
“By abandoning me on our wedding day?”
His face crumpled.
“I am trying to save you.”
“From what? Loving you?”
“From waking up ten years from now and realizing pity became your entire life.”
I removed the pact from his hands.
“There is something I never told you.”
He became still.
“I knew I loved you before I walked across that therapy room.”
“Christine—”
“I knew the night I fell in the bathroom.”
He frowned.
“That was an awful night.”
“It was. I was half dressed, furious, and crying on the floor.”
I touched his face.
“You did not rescue me. You sat beside me until I decided what kind of help I wanted.”
His eyes filled again.
“Evan watched my body change and decided my future was too difficult. You saw me at my worst and never once made me feel smaller.”
Noah lowered his eyes.
“You did not carry me until I could walk,” I continued. “You stood beside me until I remembered I was still myself.”
“I still do not want gratitude.”
“Good, because gratitude is not why I become jealous when women flirt with you.”
A laugh escaped him.
“Gratitude is not why I know how you take your coffee. It is not why I miss you after one night apart. And it certainly is not why I want to argue with you when we are eighty.”
I stood and extended my hand.
“Come with me.”
