Olivia takes another step back, but I see the change in her eyes. Just a flash, but it gives me hope.

“If you walk away, I won’t blame you,” I continue softly. “But I’m not going anywhere. I will stay here, and you’ll have to see my ugly face every single day. A few of my dad’s colleagues are willing to give me a chance to get into the business world. People get high on rehabilitated vets and all that, but I don’t care if it’s a pity hire. I’ll take it, and I’ll prove that I’m worth the risk.”

She shakes her head a little, and I get even more frantic. I glance around the room, searching for something to show her that I’m changing. My eyes land on my Starbucks cup, and I point at it.

“I bought coffee. Myself. In a Starbucks near Times Square, which should tell you just how crowded it was. People looked. Some looked twice at my face, but I didn’t care.” My words are rushing together now. “I don’t care about any of that, Olivia. And I know it will take time—weeks, months, whatever—to show you that I’m not going to go back into hiding again just because someone looks at me wrong or some jackass says something insulting. But no matter what happens, I’m going to be here because you’re here.”

Tears are running down her face, and I don’t know if it’s in sympathy or despair or happiness. But she’s lost that layer of indifference, and I go for broke.

Slowly I move toward her, my heart skipping a beat when I realize she’s stopped moving backward. I reach for her hand and slowly lift it to my face, pressing her palm against the scars there. Letting her touch me. Needing her to touch me.

Olivia lets out a little sob, and with my other arm I reach gently around her, my hand settling on her back as I pull her toward me.

“I don’t want to be without you,” I say, my voice low. “But I know that I can be, if that’s what you want. I know I’ll survive and I’ll be okay, because of you. You made me whole. You took a wretched, broken soul and showed him how to take his life back.”

I swallow and pull her just a little bit closer. “I guess what I’m saying is that I don’t need you for my survival, Olivia. I know you wouldn’t want me that way, all desperate and needy. But that doesn’t mean that I’m not scared to death of living without you. And there’s nothing I wouldn’t give for a second chance with you—a chance to make you happy.”

She’s still stubbornly silent, and I feel a suspicious prick at the corner of my eyes. I blink rapidly to keep the tears from falling.

“Please, sweetheart. Please.”

I don’t even know what I’m asking her for.

Anything. Everything.

Love me.

Olivia’s eyes don’t meet mine. Instead they focus on her hand where it rests against my face. Very slowly she runs a finger down each of my scars the way she did that night by the fire all those weeks ago.

“You’re wrong,” she says softly.

“About?” My heart is in my throat.

“You said I’d have to see your ugly face every day.” Her eyes flick to mine. “You’re wrong. You’re beautiful.”

I close my eyes, hardly daring to hope. My other hand moves around her until I have both arms wrapped securely around her waist, completely unwilling to let her go. I force myself to open my eyes and look at her. No more hiding.

“How do I know you won’t leave?” she asks. Her voice is strong but her eyes are vulnerable, and it’s like there’s a knife in my heart.

I set my lips to hers briefly. Then a second time, because she tastes so good, and I’ve missed her so much, but I pull back to finish what I’ve started.

“I’m not going anywhere. And you may not believe me yet, and that’s okay, but believe this.” I slide my hands up to her face, my thumbs moving over her perfect cheekbones. “Believe that I love you.”

Now it’s her eyes that close, but I say it again, a little desperately. “I love you, and I understand if that’s not enough, but—”

She throws herself at me with so much force that I have to take a step backward to steady us. Her arms go around my neck, her face burrowing there. “It’s enough,” she says into my skin. “It’s enough.”

I let out a long breath, feeling as though I can finally breathe for the first time in weeks.

“I’m going to make you love me again,” I say against her hair. “I swear it.”

Olivia pulls back, her green eyes giving me a withering look. “Don’t be an idiot. I never said anything about not loving you anymore.”

I inhale. “Yeah?”

She leans forward and gives me a quick, soft kiss. And then a little longer one as our tongues tangle. “Yeah,” she says when she pulls back. “I never stopped loving you. Not even for a moment. I was mad, and sad, and a lot doubtful that you were here for the right thing. But that was quite a speech, Langdon. And I’ll admit that I’m not blameless here. I pushed you before you were ready, and—”

I put a hand over her mouth in exasperation. “Just . . . don’t. You were right to leave when you did, and for the reasons you did. Should I restart my speech again? It seems like you weren’t listening.”

She giggles, and the sound of it is like heaven. “Bet you didn’t factor such swanky digs into your grand plan,” she says. “I know the place is gross, but . . . I’m determined to do it on my own, you know? No help from Daddy’s credit cards and all that.”