“I love you, Keelynn.” “Even after all I’ve done, you still love me?” “Desperately.” I swallowed, but the tightness in my throat refused to ease. The mattress dipped when Tadhg sank onto the bed at my side. He reached a tentative hand to brush his thumb across my lips. “I know you don’t love me,” he said, the quiet resignation in his voice breaking my heart, “but I think I love you enough for the both of us.” I know you don’t love me. But . . . what if I did love him?
