“I’m in this,” he whispers. His hand in my hair, his other arm around my waist; they both tighten. “You don’t have to say anything. What you told me tonight, about Camp Merethyl—I want you to know how seriously I take it. I know it was no small thing for you, and this, you and me, isn’t small for me either.” He gave me an out. I could stay quiet and drift off in his arms and call this night the best of my life. “I’m in this, too,” I say. Now it’s the best night of my life.
