He would have given everything he had in the world and everything he would ever have, just to lie beside her in the narrow infirmary bed and hold her while she slept. Pulling away from her had been like pulling his own skin off, but he’d had to do it. The way he always had to. The way he always had to deny himself what he wanted. But maybe—after tonight— He cut the thought off before it bloomed in his mind. Better not to think about it; better not to hope and be disappointed.
