"So do I," Gleb says, nodding solemnly when he lifts his head to look at her again, absently brushing a strand of hair away from her face. The words come unbidden, but he supposes there's no sense in pretending they aren't true. Of course he wishes they hadn't had to do this at all. That afternoon, the last time they spoke, was excruciating. There's no turning such things back, but if he could, he would, if only because he knows now that he's spent all this time believing things that weren't true, that what she said wasn't what he thought it meant. Before, it was painful but necessary, a sharp jolt back to reality after he let himself get so caught up in the impossible fantasy of loving her. That doesn't seem so impossible anymore. They've had so much heartache just to apparently find their way back to each other, and he isn't sure what the point was.

He'd do it all again, though, without hesitation, if it meant winding up here with her. There are so many things he should say or ask, and he knows they can't just act as if nothing has happened, as if there weren't a rift between them for so many weeks. Picking up where they left off wouldn't do any good, when where they left off was her telling him that she loved someone else. She's here now, no matter what her reasons for that may be. He won't take that for granted.

"But you're here now."