“Don’t you think I know that?” she said, sitting up. She didn’t bother to cover herself with the sheet, and I forced myself to look away from those perky t**s so I could focus on what she was saying. “It’s all I think about. I can’t make you give this up—I can see that you love it. Hell, it’s what I love about you. That you are passionate and giving and spiritual, that you’ve devoted your life to God. But then I worry—” and there were real tears now “—that you’re going to give me up instead.”
“No,” I whispered. “Don’t do that to yourself.”
But I didn’t tell her what she wanted to hear. I didn’t know if I would give her up or not, because while it would kill me, being discovered and losing everything I’d fought for would kill me too.
I could see the moment she realized it, that I wasn’t
