“She is.” Blane’s statement was unequivocal.

The nurse looked skeptical, but she didn’t pursue it and instead led us down the hall to the ICU. “He’s still sedated,” she explained. “But you can go in for a short while.”

I held tight to Blane as we walked into the partitioned space, the nurse pulling the curtain closed behind us for a little privacy. Tears sprang to my eyes instantly when I saw him.

Kade was hooked up to several machines, one of which I recognized as a ventilator. An IV dripped fluid into his arm and there was a chest tube attached to him. Dried blood still flecked the skin around the gauze covering his wounds.

I leaned into Blane and he supported my weight as we stood next to the bed. Kade was sickly pale, and the sound of the ventilator pushing air into his lungs was something I knew I’d hear in my nightmares. It shook me, seeing him so vulnerable. He always seemed larger than life, as if nothing could touch him.

“Why did he do that?” Blane said, his voice thick. “Why did he have to jump in front of me? I’m supposed to protect him, not the other way around.”

“He loves you,” I answered. “It’s no more complicated than that.”

“I’d do anything for him,” Blane said. “Even lose you.”

I looked up at him and he seemed to read the confusion on my face.

“If you love him, want to be with him, I won’t stand in the way.”

I didn’t know what to say. I looked back at Kade lying so very still. I couldn’t think about it now. Getting through the next five minutes, the next hour, seemed insurmountable—much less anything longer than that.

Blane and I stayed in that spot for a long time, keeping our silent vigil at Kade’s bedside.