“I think so. If you still want me to, by then.” He sits up, dislodging my hand from where I’d tucked it in his shirt. He half turns around, just enough that he can look at me. Backlit by the fire, I can hardly see his face. Not that it particularly matters. I’d know him blind. “I’ll want you to. I love you, and that’s not going to change.” “Even when I don’t want you to touch me? Or cuddle?” I trail my fingertips up his side, drawing attention to how close we’re sitting. “Even then.” “Even when I take long trips to visit Max?” “Especially then,” he agrees firmly. “Because I’ll miss you so bad,
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