[ The last time Krouse touched Noelle's face, it was soft and smooth and terrifyingly cold. The ripples and divots of her skin are a warm and foreign topography, nearly as new as how she leans into his touch.

She's telling him she wants him to go. Abandon her like everyone else, turn his back and close his eyes and walk away. She thinks she's being fair, like she always wants to be fair, one of the things about her that made her give him a chance in the first place. ]

Then it's not fair.

[ He concedes, level and soft. For years, he strung her along with fragile hopes and real promises. When she'd spit them back in his face, that had been fair. The best he could do hadn't ever been good enough. Hindsight made that clear. He can't do that to her again, as much as he wants to, half a dozen arguments for ways they could get around it already putting themselves together unbidden.

So he tells her the truth. ]

Thing is, No', I don't really care if it's fair. [ He holds her gaze, dark eyes intense and steady. ] I just care about you. And whatever happens, or doesn't happen, I want to be here.

It wouldn't be like it was, okay? It wouldn't. Because I won't be like that. I won't make you do it alone. Not ever again.