Her small hand grips my chin lightly, pointing my eyes to her—the move so similar to the times she’s attempted to take control before, but then her soft mouth parts on a breath and she asks, “Are you sure?” My chest aches and I copy her move, except my hand caresses and cups her cheek. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.” I almost say I love you but manage to strangle the words in my throat because I know she’ll think it’s ridiculous.
