It’s two AM, and we leave for Berlin in only a few hours. I know I shouldn’t be in here, watching Robin sleep, searching her face in the moonlight for signs of crying or stress.

Because…of course, I’ve found them.

I can see the faint salty-tear tracks under her eyes, and if that’s not enough, it appears the girl has taken a whole box of tissues to bed with her. Worse, she’s clutching it to her heart like it’s a long-lost pet, and damn-me-to-hell, but I know I’m the cause of those tears.

See, I’d made up some lame excuse as to why I had to sleep in Hunter’s room, and why I was too busy to come in here tonight, but it was all lies. I was avoiding her. As the day went on, I’d become more and more worried that she’d do something off the wall like ask me to sleep with her again. Or worse, beg me. And despite how I truly do want to shake her father’s hand and all that crap I’d spewed the other night. But, if Robin asked me again, I know I will not be able to tell her ‘no’ twice.

Not be able to tell myself ‘no’ either.

Which is why, I’m happy as hell this is our last night in Paris and that all of this will be over in a few days. Thankfully, far as I can tell—and as Vere had reported to me, both she and Sage have bought in to our exit plan. The cheating idea. Though I was surprised to find out Robin had balked on the Clara idea—I was even more surprised that Robin asked Vere to encourage me to go for a real relationship. Vere told me of Robin’s bossy, a step-by-step plan to my-future-romance. A plan that Vere thought was actually a good idea, while I thought it was ridiculous.

I haven’t ever had a ‘real’ relationship and after how this last ‘fake’ relationship nearly killed me, I feel like I should remain alone for the rest of my fucking life.

That, or maybe I’ll get a dog after all of this…

I know it took a lot—and I mean a lot to convince Vere to say all that she said to them both this morning. She’d been tasked with saying how I’d cheat on Robin so that both Sage and Robin will be ready for it when it happens—because I mean for it to happen as quickly as possible. I also swore to Vere that I’d leave Robin alone from that point forward. That I’d keep our ‘together time’ to a minimum so she and I could get used to how that feels, but…I also can’t stay away from her now. Vere told me straight up that Robin told her she really, truly and deeply in love with me. In love. With me. How I’m in love with her.

Like she knows I’m there—pondering love and our impossible future, she rolls toward my empty side of the bed, calling out, “Royce? I didn’t think you’d come. Or that you were mad at me. Is everything okay between us after what I asked you last night? We’re still friends, right? Don’t sleep in Hunter’s room. Please…come in here with me. I’m cold.” She sounds…so sad, my breath catches.

“All is okay,” I answer, unable not to crawl into the bed once I notice she’s truly shivering. I eject her tissue box onto the floor, and pull her in so I can nestle her spine against my chest, but as I place my chin on the top of her head, I feel anvils of guilt striking into me that I’m doing this after I’d resolved not to be here.

More so, I feel shame that I can’t stop myself from doing this—that I’m so damn weak where she’s concerned that I can’t stay away. I tense some as she whispers, “Thank you,” to me, I hold my breath.

Thankfully she doesn’t repeat the requests of last night, doesn’t do anything provocative, only sighs and breathes in deep like she needed me to be here, my arms lock around her waist and this wave of love I have for her takes over. It’s so huge and feels so desolate because I wonder if this is truly our last night together like this, that the magnitude of that idea nearly stops my heart. “Go back to sleep,” I whisper, my breathing settling in to matching hers. “Everything is okay. We’ve been the best of friends all along, and we will stay the best of friends,” I lie, because—shit…I don’t know what we are anymore, don’t feel confident in what we will be in the future, either. I also don’t want to think about it, only want to hold her…and wish away the relentless clock.

“Thanks for not holding it against me. I thought you had and…I guess…thanks for saying ‘no’ because…I was a fool and you were right. Also, thanks for finally coming to bed with me. I’m…really sorry…about all of it.”

Her words kill me all over again. Too late I realize she’s not wearing the hoodie. Worse, she’s wearing what feels like short pajama shorts and a tank top.

“If we’re to get one thing straight between us, Robin Love,” I deliberately, slowly drawl out the name she had before she agreed to marry me to remind myself to keep my hands still. “It’s that I’m the one who is sorry. I’m forever going to be the fool.”

She shakes her head, but thankfully doesn’t say more.

I memorize this moment, taking snapshots of what I’m allowed to keep like, how her spine highlights the slight curve in her back, the way she melts into me as she warms up and grows sleepier and sleepier, the smell of her lavender lotion, the curls springing under my chin, smelling like lavender….

When I think she’s asleep, I whisper very quietly, “Robin Love…” again. And then, again. “Robin….love.”

I know I’m saying it simply because it is the only way I can say her name plus the word ‘love’ all together.

She surprises me with a sleep-heavy-protest of, “Hey. I’m still Robin Devlin. Today. Robin Devlin.” She nestles deeper into my embrace, adding, “Hard to believe… tomorrow is Berlin…”

“Right?” I answer the obvious, but add nothing more, because…there’s just nothing left to say that won’t hurt us both all over again.

And…I think she and I combined…are at our limits.