Something else he has never seen before: Emma, open. Tears leaking down her cheeks as she clasps his hand and bends closer, presses her forehead gently to his. And my god, what he feels for this girl. His torn heart leaps inside his broken chest, and it should be painful, but somehow it isn’t. He releases her fingers so he can cup her cheek, swipe her tears with his thumb—her skin is soft as she leans into his hand. “Travis,” she whispers, and this is another revelation.
