When I finally give up her lips, I shift to the side so I can glide my hands over her entire body. First, I confessed on the beach. Now, I've inadvertently spoken three words I should never have spoken.
Bod a' chac.
Emery cradles my head in her hand and murmurs, "You're not alone anymore."
Weight. On my chest. Pressing me down until I feel like I'll punch through the floor and straight into the earth's core. No, I don't want to hear those words. Somehow, it's more terrifying than when she said she loves me. Because I don't feel alone when I'm with her.
And that means, when she leaves me, I will be ruined.
I hold her, my eyes closed, and let the whispers of her breaths lull me until the scent and feel of her wipes away the fear and pain. I fall asleep like that, sheltered in the arms of the only woman who has ever made me wish I could become someone else, not because she expects me to change, but because I would give anything to be what she needs.
No, I can't change. And I will lose her.