The Elite (Selection)

castes … I really would love to see those dead and gone.
    “Would you indulge me?” Maxon asked.
    “What do you mean?”
    “Well, I’ve shared a lot of things with you tonight that are very difficult for me to admit. I was wondering if you could answer one question for me.”
    His face was so sincere, I didn’t want to deny him. I hoped I wouldn’t regret whatever this was about, but he had been more honest than I deserved at this point.
    “Yes. Anything.”
    He swallowed. “Did you ever love me?”
    Maxon looked into my eyes, and I wondered if he could see it there. All the emotions I’d fought because I thought he was something he wasn’t, all the feelings I never wanted to put a name on. I ducked my head.
    “I know that when I thought you were responsible for hurting Marlee, it crushed me. Not just because it happened, but because I didn’t want to think of you as that kind of person. I know that when you talk about Kriss or when I think about you kissing Celeste … I’m so jealous I can hardly breathe. And I know that when we talked on Halloween, I was thinking about our future. And I was happy. I know if you had asked, I would have said yes.” Those last words were a whisper, almost too difficult to think about.
    “I also know that I never knew how to feel about you dating other people or being a prince. Even with everything you told me tonight, I think there are pieces of yourself that you will always guard ….
    “But, with all that …” I nodded. I couldn’t say the words aloud. If I did, how would I be able to leave?
    “Thank you,” he whispered. “At least I can know for certain that, for one brief moment of our time together, you and I felt the same thing.”
    My eyes stung, threatening to spill over with more tears. He’d never actually told me he loved me, and he wasn’t exactly saying it now. But the words were so, so very close.
    “I’ve been so foolish,” I said, my breath catching. I’d fought hard against the tears, but I couldn’t anymore. “I kept letting the crown scare me out of wanting you. I told myself that you didn’t really matter to me. I kept thinking that you had lied to me or tricked me, that you didn’t trust me or care about me enough. I let myself believe that I wasn’t important to you.”
    I stared at his handsome face. “One look at your back says you’d do damn near anything for me. And I threw it away. I just threw it away ….”
    He opened his arms, and I fell into them. Maxon held me silently, running his hands through my hair. I wished I could erase everything else and hold on to this moment, this brief second when he and I knew how much we meant to each other.
    “Please don’t cry, darling. I’d spare you tears for the rest of your life if I could.”
    My breathing was uneven as I spoke. “I’ll never see you again. It’s all my fault.”
    He held me closer. “No, I should have been more open.”
    “I should have been more patient.”
    “I should have proposed that night in your room.”
    “I should have let you.”
    He chuckled. I looked up at his face, unsure of how many more of his smiles I’d have. Maxon’s fingers swept away the tears from my cheeks, and he sat there gazing into my eyes. I did the same to him, wanting to remember this so badly.
    “America … I don’t know how much time we have left together, but I don’t want to spend it regretting things we didn’t do.”
    “Me either.” I turned my face into his palm, kissing it. Then I kissed the tips of each of his fingers. He slid that hand deep into my hair and pulled my lips to his.
    I had missed these kisses, so quiet, so sure. I knew that, in my whole life, if I married Aspen or someone else, no one would ever make me feel this way. It wasn’t like I made his world better. It was like I was his world. It wasn’t some explosion; it wasn’t fireworks. It was a fire, burning slowly from the inside out.
    We shifted, sliding so I was on the floor and Maxon was above me. He ran his nose along my jawline, down my neck, across my shoulder, and kissed the same path back to my lips. I kept running my fingers through his hair. It was so soft, it almost tickled my palms.
    After a while we pulled out the blankets and built a makeshift bed. He held me for the longest time, looking into my eyes. We could have spent years doing this if not for me.
    Once Maxon’s shirt was dry, he put it on, covering the dried stains with his coat, and curled up next to me again.