Her fingers press against my lips, silencing me. She sniffles and dashes her fingers against her wet eyes. “No. No apologies. No regrets. We’re both alive, and that’s a precious gift. I refuse to squander it. I refuse to waste a single moment looking back on the wreckage behind us, because we have too much to look forward to.”
She’s looking at me with expectation, fervent love blazing in her eyes. For a moment, I’m so choked with emotion I can’t speak.
Then she takes my hand and flattens it against her stomach, and this time the chest-deep, body-racking sobs aren’t coming from her.
They’re coming from me.
TWENTY-TWO
EVA
One month later
“Stop tickling me.”
“I’m not tickling you.”
“Seriously, Naz, you know how much I hate to be tickled.”
He blinks innocently at me, fighting a smile
