Warner blinks rapidly, disbelief washing over his face. His voice, usually so controlled, falters. “What are you saying?”

“I love you,” you say softly. “I love you exactly as you are.”

He stares at you, like he’s lost in a dream. “No,” he breathes, the word fractured, barely audible. His composure shatters—he shakes his head, looks away, his hand gripping his hair. His body turns away, overwhelmed, as he repeats, “No. No, no—”