Negan was staring down at me, my question hanging tense in the air around us. I couldn't understand, why? Why did he care if Daryl was still in my heart or my head? Why would he care if I hated him in the end? Why did it matter whether I wanted the life that I'd built in my mind with Daryl? Why would Negan, a man I'd watched unflinchingly kill Abraham and his own fucking doctor, burn a man's face with a hot iron, and gut another man just to prove a point, give a shit about who I loved?

"Why?" His voice was almost a hiss it was so low and dangerous. "Why, what, Jessi?"

It was a challenge. A dare. He wanted me to close the loophole of my question. He wanted me to explain my own mindset, to test me, but I wasn't sure what the test entailed.

"Why would it matter to you?" I asked, sitting down in my usual spot. "I get that you found me distracting or a puzzle or something." I leaned back and looked up at him. "But that's all I am, a distraction, Negan. You have far more women to keep your bed warm than just me."

I didn't sound jealous because I didn't think I was. Why would I be? He introduced them to me first fucking thing when I arrived. It wasn't like his harem was a secret. It wasn't like he hadn't made out with wife number one in front of me and Carl.

"Why would it matter to me?" He repeated, sitting down in his own spot. "Jesus, Jessi." That hand wiping down his face, clearly frustrated with my ass. "Have you seen my wives lately?" His eyes locked on mine. "Aside from my disastrous trip to visit dear old dad, and these fucking planning sessions, when have I been more than a room away from you?" Obviously I couldn't count the trip to Alexandria to take Carl home, it wasn't like he'd brought them along.

"I am so fucking confused, Negan." I answered, staring at him. "Is that what you think my purpose is? As an addition to your harem?"

He was staring at me as though I'd asked him if my hair was on fire and he was afraid to confirm it. I waited him out. If that's what he assumed my grand purpose was, then he was sadly mistaken. Sex with Negan was one thing. Hell, finding out that I liked him, his company, was pretty damn huge for me. Joining up to be a sister-wife? No.

Another swipe of that damn hand of his down his face, and I could feel the frustration rolling off of him. "Why is that such a fucking horrifying situtation to you?" He asked, and I was shocked at how quiet he sounded. "Why the fuck am I even having this discussion with you?" That question was clearly more to himself, than to me. His eyes met mine again. "Seriously, what the hell is it about you?" Another inner debate that he couldn't hold in.

"It's horrifying, Negan," I started, drawing his full attention to me. "Because you're asking me to give up ONE person. One man who I had ALL of since practically the beginning of this mess." I considered how Daryl and Merle had taken me in when Lori was wrapped up in Shane and corrected my statement. "Not practically, literally. From the moment I met Daryl Dixon, he took care of me. I trusted him with my LIFE, Negan. And then I trusted him with my heart and body." I closed my eyes, thinking about how Daryl and I had come together. How we'd fit so effortlessly for so long. "And you want assurances that he's gone from me. Completely, but you have MULTIPLE women dangling from your string."

I looked at him, trying to gauge if he was at least TRYING to see it from my point of view. The look on his face nearly made me lose my ability to breathe. Negan looked, well to be honest, I wasn't sure what emotions he was showing. Too many to choose just one.

"You're still in love with him?" Negan asked, his mouth barely moving with the words.

"I will ALWAYS love Daryl, Negan." I answered, shaking my head. "Haven't you ever- Isn't there anyone that you've loved, or love," I thought of his women, "that will live inside of you forever?" He shot a strange look at his bat, and I had a flicker of unease. "Being IN love with him isn't something I can answer, Negan. I don't know. I haven't been myself for such a long time."

He stared at me, seemingly thinking about what I was saying. And the silence curled around us. Negan moved, so fast that I was startled. He was on his knees on the floor beside my chair, and his hands were reaching for my face. I leaned into his touch, but he didn't lean forward, didn't pull me to him. Instead he cupped my face and stared into my eyes. I waited, fear blossoming in my stomach.