Thank you, Adam,” I told him. “Thank you for tearing Tim into
small Tim bits. Thank you for forcing me to drink one last cup of
fairy bug-juice so I could have use of both of my arms. Thank you for
being there, for putting up with me.” By that point I wasn’t laughing
anymore. “Thank you for keeping me from being another of Stefan’s
sheep—I’ll take pack over that any day. Thank you for making the
tough calls, for giving me time.” I stood up and walked to him,
leaning against him and pressing my face against his shoulder.
“Thank you for loving me.”
His arms closed around me, pressing flesh painfully hard against
bone. Love hurts like that sometimes.
