⸻
« You don’t have to ask me, » I said. « I already decided that part eleven years ago, when I married you. Fear doesn’t get to unilaterally cancel a decision I already made, Griffin. Not without at least giving me the chance to make it again, with my eyes open, knowing everything you know now. »
⸻
« And if you’d said no? » he asked quietly. « If knowing about the syndrome had actually changed your answer? »
⸻
« Then that would have been my choice to make, » I said. « Just like it was always supposed to be. You took that away from me three weeks ago, the exact same day you decided, alone, that my answer would obviously be to stay, and used that assumption as your excuse to leave instead of actually asking me. »
⸻
Griffin sat with that for a long time, something in his rigid posture slowly, finally beginning to loosen.
⸻
« I’m sorry, » he said. « I told myself I was protecting you. I think, mostly, I was protecting myself from having to watch you decide, out loud, whether I was actually worth the risk going forward. »
