She took his face in her warm hands, her thumb brushing his cheekbone. "It will be okay, Francis," she said quietly. "We can work this out."
She hesitated, brushing his hair back. "I know you're scared," she said eventually. "I am too. But we're going to figure this out, okay? You and I. We're going to figure this out."
"We'll manage," she murmured in his ear. "Whatever happens, we'll work it out, okay? We can figure this out."
She sighed, burying her face in his neck. "I know you're really scared," she said softly. "And I am too. But I... God. Francis, I'm just so happy you're alive."
She bit her lip, cursing herself for sounding so insensitive. "I... I thought I would lose you," she said, her voice barely louder than a whisper. "I woke up briefly... on the ambulance. You were unconscious and for a moment, I thought..."
“I know,” she chided herself. “I know you’re not. I’m just... I really don’t know what I’d do without you, Craw.”
She laughed, but it almost sounded as if a sob was building up in her throat. “You’re not okay, my darling. I know you well enough to know that you’re not okay, with or without me.”
