“When you’re out there on the battlefield with your captains and your soldiers, when you fight, you are the strongest, toughest, fiercest woman I know. Sometimes you scare me at how hardened you are.”
“But that’s just—”
“No, I know what you’re going to say. I know it’s who you really are and I love that person. She’s someone I admire so much.”
“What are you trying to say?”
“I’m saying that I feel honoured that I get to see the real you. When you’re with me, you turn into this soft, beautiful, lighthearted woman whom I adore. That woman who stirs something inside me to a point that I can’t bear to be without her. I never see that woman with anyone else. Not Cary, not her brother, no one. Halíka, I think I know how you feel about me but—”
He looked down at our hands, somewhat crestfallen.
“But what?”
“You never say it, Hal. I’ve never, ever heard you say the word. Not even with those closest to you.”
“What word?”
“Love,” he sighed and rested his hand on my cheek, cupping my face. “The word is love. Is Halíka Dacomé capable of such a thing?”
