He cannot keep from touching me, it seems, and I am overcome with a wave of... ridiculous though it is, a wave of relief. He is endlessly forgiving and I am endlessly fortunate.

I catch his wrist gently and turn it over, pressing my lips to the pulse point just next to the bandages. "I would be lost without you," I admit. Not a statement of love, though I love him without measure.

Just a statement of fact.