Peter?”
He couldn’t look at her. Instead, he stared down at his
poisoned arm.
“I could do terrible things to you,” he cautioned her
sadly. “I have to leave you. You won’t be safe with me until
I learn to control myself.”
“I’ll wait for you.”
Finally, when he felt the strength of his conviction, of
her conviction, he turned to her, allowing her in for just a
moment.
“I thought you’d say that.

Sarah Blakley-Cartwright