“You know what Carlise told me today? I saw her before I left to get us lunch. She was there to see Chappy. She laughed and told me she was right, that she knew I’d find my Cinderella—and I did. I love you, June. You can’t leave me!” “My prince,” she said, then coughed. Blood sprayed from her lips, and Cal winced. Her eyes went to her own chest, where he was still putting as much pressure as he dared on her wounds. “Scar . . .” “We’ll get a plastic surgeon to fix it, so you’ll never know anything happened,” Cal told her. “I don’t care about a bloody scar. It doesn’t change anything between
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