“Why did you take a bullet for me?” “I don’t know.” “Yes, you do. Tell me the truth.” His voice is low and urgent. I imagine those beautiful green eyes gazing down at me with their usual penetrating intensity and wish with all my heart that I didn’t currently look like I’ve been sleeping under a bridge. I take a deep breath, let it out, and tell him the ridiculous truth in a voice so small, he probably can’t even hear it. “Because I didn’t want you to die.”
