I run my hand along his jaw and over his cheekbone. I touch every bruise and cut, imagining that I can heal him. I"m still not sure this is real as I kneel in the mud by his side. His nose looks broken and blood is matted in his hair. I lean down to plant a gentle kiss on his forehead and his eyelids flutter open.
As he comes to, he"s disoriented and confusion clouds his face. “Gabby?” he asks tentatively.
“It"s me. I"m here.” Tears well in my eyes. I can feel everyone"s eyes on my back and I tell myself that I will not cry.
“I didn"t think I"d ever get out of there,” he says with a tremor in his voice. We"re both crying now. We cry for our pain. We cry for Claire. And we cry because we"re safe here, together.
“I thought you were dead,” I whisper.
“I thought I was too. I can"t believe
