53

“I know.”

“Dylan, I’m so, so tired.”

“I can tell.”

Dylan blue. That was the color I called his eyes.

And that was what was finally staring back at me.

For so long, I hadn’t looked.

I couldn’t.

But, now that I did, it hurt.

Oh God, did it hurt.

“I can’t keep doing this.” I tucked my knees against my chest and wrapped my arms around them. “I can’t keep fighting for us.”

“I know, Alix.”

My eyes were so heavy; I could barely keep them open.

“I don’t think I’m going to make it up to bed tonight,” I said. “I just don’t have it in me.”

His hand lifted to my cheek. “You don’t have to, my love.”

I stretched my body across the grass, smelling the wet soil beneath me.

My knees moved to my chest again.

I used my arm as a pillow.

I looked across the grass, like I would when I checked our bed.

There was no dented pillow.

There was no tousled blanket.

“Don’t leave until I fall asleep,” I told him.

Rain pounded against my ear.

Wet hair stuck to my cheeks.

“I’m going to stay with you,” he said.

I felt