Dane
The memory was so real and present, he could smell her like she was there with him, see the texture of her skin the shine on her hair. They'd been at the secret apartment, sitting at the dining table. They'd finished eating, but neither of them had gotten up because they couldn't bear to be apart, to take their eyes off each other.
Dear, God, he missed her with an ache that made him want to weep.
And that feeling got worse as he fell headlong into that moment that seemed so impossibly long ago. How could he have forgotten that? How could he have forgotten his promise?
And… how would he decide if he was still going to hold himself to it…?
…They were in the apartment and she stared up at him with love and concern in her eyes as he murmured in a dark voice, "The only way I'll ever be free—we'll ever be free—is if he's dead."
