Juliette,” he says.

“Yes?”

I can hear him breathing.

“Thank you,” he whispers. “For
being my friend.”

I turn around then. Press close to
him, my nose grazing his neck. “I will
always be here if you need me,” I say,
the darkness catching and hushing my
voice. “Please remember that. Always
remember that.

Can you hear my heart? I want to ask him.

I want you to make a list of all your favorite things, and I want to be on it.

I do want you," I say to him, my voice shaking. "I want you so much it scares me.

Twice.
Once for Adam.
Once for Warner.

It's not charity," I snap. "He cares about me--and I care about him!"

Warner nods, unimpressed. "You should get a dog, love. I hear they share much the same qualities.

Because I was dying.
　　And Warner could’ve let me die. He was angry and hurt and had every reason to be bitter. I’d just ripped his heart out; I’d let him believe something would come of our relationship. I let him confess the depth of his feelings to me; I let him touch me in ways even Adam hadn't. I didn't ask him to stop.
　　Every inch of me was saying yes.
　　And then I took it all back. Because I was scared, and confused, and conflicted. Because of Adam.
　　Warner told me he loved me, and in return I insulted him and lied to him and yelled at him and pushed him away. And when he had the chance to stand back and watch me die, he didn’t.
　　He found a way to save my life.
　　With no demands. No expectations. Believing full well that I was in love with someone else, and that saving my life meant making me whole again only to give me back to another guy.
　　And right now, I can’t say I know what Adam would do if I were dying in front of him. I’m not sure if he would save my life. And that uncertainty alone makes me certain that something wasn't right between us.