So we slipped. We fell … “Roe … don’t say it,” I whispered. He loved me. And I loved him. It had never been said, but it was always there. He pulled back enough to see my eyes, a ghost of concern sliding across his face. “It’s too late.” I eased his concern with a little grin, feathering my fingernails down his back. “It’s too big for words now. Don’t belittle it with a four-letter word. It’s too intangible. Too undefinable. Don’t ever tell me what you can show me.”
