Page 133 of The Commons

“My God! Why did you jump into that hell miry clay? It was meant to kill. You could have died⁠—”

“I had to!”

“I lost all signal of you. I almost died.”

“I couldn’t afford to have her die⁠—”

“Of course you couldn’t! You’re astounding!” He takes my hands. “Everything about you is mind shattering. You were phenomenal. Breathtaking⁠—”

“I can’t believe I did it,” I mutter, looking at his hands on mine.

“Are you okay?” His eyes frantically scan me, searching all over my body for bruises?

“I’m okay. I think…”

“I’ll make sure you’re okay, okay?”

I nod, looking up into his caring gaze as he tears off a piece of fabric from his shirt, tying it around my arm.

“I need to take care of these.” He rips a healing patch from his pocket, wrapping all over my head in seconds, voice speeding with passion.

“You are a prodigious star, a burning sun, a wondrous constellation, and I’m so impressed by you.”

“Really? That much?” I smile, gripping his arm.

He’s not playing. He’s not nonchalant—no, not now. His heart is aflame. He nods, eyes on me. “Yes, that much!”

“Pesh!” I whisper softly, my chest tightening. I’ve never seen him like this.

“You are!” He grips my forehead, kissing it vigorously, placing constellations of kisses all over my face, sending fire and warmth and healing through me. “I love you! I love you! I love you!”

He grips me over and over again, like I could disappear, embracing me like he needs to remember that I am here, that I am alive, that I survived, that I came back.

I came back.

For her.

For him.

And for me.

He looks at me in silence, then a sudden smile breaks across his face.

“I told you I’d come back!” I exhale, relieved, as he wraps me in a tight embrace, holding me close with a thankfulness of a thousand years.

We start talking to Levon who has made it to The Lawtem.

“I’m in,” she says. “Oh no!”

“What’s wrong?” I exclaim.

“It’s Gihard, that son of a bitch!”

We hear fighting and bodies clashing against a wall.

“What do you think you’re doing?” a male voice shouts. I assume it’s that bastard, Gihard.

My fist tightens, anger surging.