“How long…” she swallows, reaching up to cup my jaw.
“Since I was eight. When it happens, I lock up. And then get physical when I reach my breaking point.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be. It made me.”
“I freaking hate that.”
“It’s fine. I don’t lose sleep over it.”
“Is he the one you put in the hospital?”
“Yeah. You would think he would learn.”
“Was it over her?”
“No. He messed with Trevor. She was a crush for me when I was young, but I was her drama when we got older. Not the other way around. I don’t feel for her like that. At all.”
“I saw that last night. And he’s a miserable human.”
“I felt his jaw crack. Maybe he’ll finally learn to shut his fucking mouth.” I shrug. “Probably not.”
“He’s an idiot.” She gently traces my lips. “I think you’re incredible.”
“And I think you’re fucking gorgeous.”
A thin tear runs down her temple. “We almost lost this.”
“Yeah, but we didn’t. I won’t lose you again for any reason. I’ll give it all up. All of it. I don’t want back in that headspace again.”
“So would I, but we don’t have to.” She cups my neck and lifts to kiss me, and I meet her halfway. “And we can’t avoid life forever. We should go back to the house, I bet they’re wondering where the hell we are.”
“You aren’t stopping dancing,” I say, drawing her attention back to us.
“Nope, I’m not, but that’s just geography. And that’s not the truth of what’s kept us apart.”
“Nothing will again. You hear me? We’re going to make this work.”
“I want nothing more. So, should we go?”
“Yeah.”
“So enthusiastic,” she drawls.
I shrug. “It’s just that we’re all on such emotional high alert, I don’t think any of us are keeping it together anymore.”
“Lance, it will get better. And I know just because we’re going to be okay, doesn’t mean everything will, but it will get better.”
“I know. It has to, but Dad won’t.”
“Parkinson’s isn’t a death sentence. And they’re creating new medicines all the time.”
“I know.”
“Just don’t give up.”
“I can’t,” I grin. “You won’t let me.”