God.

I'm such a fucking coward. No sooner did I find out that Danny was going
to be all right did I begin lying to my coworkers, telling them my uncle
and cousins needed me. Yet where have I been? I've spent the last three
days in my apartment. Hiding.

Hiding from what? From whom? Danny? Myself? The truth?

God.

How could I let him down like that? We're best friends. Or, we were.
How could not saying the right thing be worse than saying the wrong
thing?

Three little words. The three little words. Not so little, though, are
they? They're fucking huge.

God.

I can still see the look in Danny's eyes, the disappointment, the pain,
as the paramedics took him from me. It hurts me just to remember it.

It had nothing to do with witnesses, of being outed. I'd had time to say
it before they showed. But I wouldn't. I didn't.

God.

I thought I could chalk it up to shock – that I was so surprised by
Danny's request that I was speechless – but I know that isn't true.
"Come clean, Fitz."

I've been so damned selfish. Time to set things right. Time to stop
hiding. Time to tell Danny the truth. Those three, fucking, huge words.
I love him.

God.