“I can’t lose you! I can’t!”
Sobbing, she scanned the darkness around her. And then she saw it—a figure, moving slowly toward her.
Penelope froze, watching as the person drew closer, his features becoming clearer.
His white shirt was caked in mud, his hair was a mess, and blood was trickling from a cut on his forehead. But when he saw her, he stopped and opened his arms.
She stumbled forward, then launched herself into his embrace.
“You’re alive, you’re really alive…”
Theodore held her tight. “I’m alive.”
“You scared me to death!”
“I’m sorry.”
“I thought I was going to lose you!”
“Never.”
“Theodore…Theodore?”
“I’m here.”
“I can’t believe it…”
Theodore gently set her down and tilted her chin up, kissing her deeply.
“I’m here, baby.”
A raw sob escaped her, a flood of fear, terror, and relief crashing over her all at once. She pounded her fists against his chest, venting all her pent-up emotion.
He pulled her into his arms again. “My life is yours, okay?”
“What am I supposed to do with your life?” she cried.
“It’s yours. If you want me to live, I’ll live. If you want me to die, I’ll die.”
“I’m not the grim reaper! Can’t you offer something a little more practical?”



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