Turning his head, he looked at me.
He looked weary, as if all his usual pulsing energy had been expended and he was running on fumes.
But his eyes were warm and bright, the curve of his mouth loving and hopeful.
"I love you.
Still not the right word, but I know you want to hear it."
"I need to hear it," I agreed softly.
"As long as you understand the difference."
The light changed and he drove on.
"People get over love.
They can live without it, they can move on.
Love can be lost and found again.
But that won't happen for me.
I won't survive you, Eva."
My breath caught at the look on his face when he glanced at me.
"I'm obsessed with you, angel.
Addicted to you.
You're everything I've ever wanted or needed, everything I've ever dreamed of.
You're everything.
I live and breathe you.
For you."
I placed my other hand over our joined ones.
"There's so much out there for you.
You just don't know it yet."
"I don't need anything else.
I get out of bed every morning and face the world because you're in it."
He turned the corner and pulled up in front of the Crossfire behind the Bentley.
He killed the engine, released his seat belt, and took a deep breath.
"Because of you, the world makes sense to me in a way it didn't before.
I have a place now, with you."
Suddenly I understood why he'd worked so hard, why he was so insanely successful at such a young age.