“I love you, Mira.” His confession is quiet and deep. Private and just for us. Even though he’s already said it, this time it really sinks in. “You make me a better man. A happier man. I said it once before, and I meant it: you are mine and I am yours. I will drink whatever ungodly coffee concoctions you bring me. I will worship your body.” His eyes drop to my lips, and even in a hospital bed feeling more roughed up than I ever have, when he looks at me like that, I feel more beautiful than I ever have. “I would walk through fire for you any day. Over and over again.”
