“Do you trust me?” he asks.
“Of course, but—”
“Do. You. Trust. Me?” he asks again, and in the space between the words—the space between us—are all the things we’ve never said.
“Yes,” I whisper, even as my entire body recoils from the hole in the ground he’s made for me.
“Yes?” he asks, his blue eyes a little disbelieving and a lot determined.
“Yes, Hudson. I trust you.”