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I’m assuming Cam’s done, but amazingly, he pushes on. “Next moment, or so it seemed, I woke up in the army hospital. Apparently, a big fucking mortar shell exploded close by, and I was incredibly lucky it didn’t blow me to bits. Still, I had internal bleeding, broken bones, concussion. I was in the hospital a good long while.”

He turns to me. The faint moonlight casts deep shadows on his face.

“You’re probably wondering about the little girl,” he says. “Truth is, I can’t tell you. There were a lot of civilian casualties that day. I like to imagine that she was saved. But in my heart of hearts, I know she never got to live her life.”

All the things I want to say to him—it wasn’t your fault, you did the best you could—they might be true but they’re no help at all. So, I say the only thing that’s left.

“I love you,” I tell him. “And I’m so glad you’re here with me now.”

He doesn’t respond. He doesn’t have to. Not yet. I rest my head against his shoulder, and we sit there listening to the quiet sounds around us in the cold, starry night.

ChapterTwenty-Six

CAM

Ava’s alarm wakes me up out of the deepest sleep I’ve had for a good long while. I lie with my eyes closed, waiting for her to hit the snooze button, but the alarm jingles on. I should probably be grateful that you can’t program your own sounds into an iPhone alarm, otherwise no doubt I’d be serenaded by some kind of death metal riff. If death metal has riffs.

Still jingling. Either Ava is still sleeping as deeply as I was until a minute ago, or she’s not in the bed. Nothing for it. I have to exit the last stages of dreamland and come back to the real world. And punch that phone into submission.

She’s not in the bed. I listen but can’t hear any noise downstairs. I rub my eyes to get myself fully awake. Soon as I do, the memories of last night come flooding back, and though the bedroom is warm, I start to shiver. I’ve only told that story to two people. First time, I told Lee, and now I remember how much it hurt. It was like I’d woken up in the hospital all over again, knowing the pain in my body was the least of it. Lee urged me to go to therapy, but the prospect of reliving that moment once again, and in front of a stranger … I couldn’t do it. And it’s taken me years to work up the courage to tell it again.

Maybe that’s why Ava’s not in the bed. Maybe she woke up and realized what a total disaster I am, and made a run for it.

Come on, Hollander. That’s your self-pity talking. You know Ava isn’t the running type. If Ava has a problem, she’s upfront about it. And besides, last night she told you she—

Shit. My sleep-fuzzed brain is slow to kick into gear. Did Ava really say those words? If so, did she mean them?

“Hey.”

Ava elbows open the bedroom door, a mug in each hand. I sincerely hope they contain coffee. Hot cocoa suited the mood last night, but this morning, I need a big kick of caffeine.

I sit up in the bed, take the mug she offers me. Black coffee. Smells strong. Outstanding.

Ava slides in next to me. She’s wearing nothing but my flannel shirt, and her bare legs are cold against mine. She blows on her mug before taking a sip. I can feel my whole body tense up, waiting for her to speak.

Takes me ten seconds to crack. “Last night? Did you … did I hear you say…?”

Ava turns to me, eyes questioning. “Was I talking in my sleep? Did I mention parrots?”

“Parrots? No…” I’m dying here. “Before that. When we were outside…”

She blows on her coffee mug, frowns as if trying to recollect. I start to have the tiniest inkling that she’s messing with me.

“You said you loved me.” There. It’s out.

“Oh,that…”

Her blue eyes are sparkling with amusement.

“Goddammit, Ava!” I’d thump her with a pillow, but I don’t want to spill my coffee.

She laughs out loud, then gives me a sideways look.

“And do you remember what you said?” she asks.

No. After that, I don’t remember saying anyth—

Right. Shit. I am so fucking slow sometimes.