A/N: Please review! I love to read them and it makes me so excited to write. There is at least one more chapter, maybe two left of this story. What do you think Maxon is thinking when they leave the saferoom and says goodbye to America? How does he convince his father to let her stay? I'd love to hear your thoughts

I looked at her for what seemed like the first time. Her hair was a mess and she had tearstains down her cheek. Drops of my blood splattered her arms and dress, making her look like the artist she was. But it was her eyes I couldn't stop staring at. There was not a hint of repulsion there. They were filled with sadness, regret, and… could it be… love? I quickly erased the thought from my mind. She pitied me, that's all it was.

She turned away and washed out my shirt angrily. I thought of all that had happened these last few weeks, her anger as she gave her speech tonight. I knew some of that was my fault.

"Why don't you ever ask questions I actually want to answer? Don't you want me to explain Kriss and Celeste? Don't you think you deserve that?"

Her posture became rigid. Staring at her, I committed her to memory, feeling guilty doing so, as she would soon belong to someone else. I waited patiently until she sat on the floor in front of me. "I've heard Kriss's version of what happened, and I don't think she's exaggerating anything. As for Celeste, I'd rather never talk about her ever again."

I laughed at the sight of her beautiful face, scrunched up at the thought of Celeste. "So stubborn," I sighed. "I'll miss that," the words felt like a stab in my heart.

"So it's done then? I'm out?" she whispered, her eyes focusing on the floor

I watched her and thought of the rocky road that had brought us both to this point. Her disdain for me the last few days had been obvious. Not that her feelings towards me would change anything; after seeing my father so angry I knew he would never forgive her. Perhaps I could convince him to let her stay, but I would never convince him to let her marry me. "I'm not sure I could stop it now. Isn't that what you wanted?"

She shook her head. "I was mad, I was so mad."

I didn't know whether to be happy that she wanted to stay or devastated that I was going to have to send her away. From the moment we had arrived in this room, she had been nothing but loving and tender, but her actions from the last few weeks had been anything but.

"I thought you were mine," I admitted, unable to look her in the eye. "If I could have proposed to you at the Halloween party, I would have. I'm supposed to do something official with my parents and guests and cameras, but I got special permission to ask you privately when we were ready and have a reception afterward. I never told you about that, did I?"

If I had, would it have changed anything? If I had allowed her to grieve her friend while feeling secure in my feelings for her, would she have confided in me about the diary? I glanced towards her and she shook her head.

Trying to hide the emotion in my voice, I continued. "I had this speech prepared, all these promises I wanted to make. I probably would have forgotten it and made an idiot of myself. Though … I can remember it now." The speech swirled in the back of my mind, each sentence I had planned along with a touch of her face or a light kiss on her hand "I'll spare you."

As I spoke, I flashed back to the dark days after Marlee's caning, where I thought I had lost America forever. When Kriss had first approached me, I didn't think my heart would ever allow another person inside. I sighed, thinking maybe it still wouldn't. Losing America was unbearable.

Did I love Kriss? As the words left America's mouth, my whole body screamed no. Didn't she understand my heart wasn't mine to give? That she had stolen it with her tears the very first time we met? But the companionship, the security I felt when I was with Kriss… could that be love? It was not the burning explosion I felt with America… but is that how love was supposed to feel? Shouldn't I feel grounded by a person's presence, instead of feeling like with a single glance or a word, she could take away my reason to live?

I thought my answer through carefully, more for my sake than hers. "It's different than what you and I had. It's quieter, maybe friendlier. But it's steady. I can depend on Kriss, and I know without question that she is devoted to me. As you can see, there is very little certainty in my world. She's refreshing in that way."

I had been expecting America to ask about Celeste, but that foreknowledge didn't help my extreme embarrassment. I decided it was better not to admit that all that time in her arms, even when I tried to erase all of my worries, I still couldn't help imagining another's arms holding me. I shivered slightly, knowing now that those dreams would never be realized.

"Is it so awful of me to want fifteen minutes of my life not to matter? To feel good? To pretend for a little while that someone loves me? You can judge me if you want, but I can't apologize for needing something normal in my life."

I looked at her again, waiting for her to scream, to yell. To embody all of the feelings I had felt since she pushed me away.

"I get that."

Shocked, I tried to read her eyes. Had she been doing the same with me? Using time with me to make hear heart ache for her ex-boyfriend lessen? I wanted to ask, but resigned myself to the fact that it was none of my business anymore. America was free to return to her ex, who I'm sure would gladly take my place, and if Kriss would have me, I would have a wife in a few months.

Taking a deep breath, I softly asked the question that had been on my mind the whole night. "Did you ever love me?"

She looked away, and it was as if time stilled. My heart was beating so fast, afraid she would say no, but more afraid she would say yes.

"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."

I had been so close. How different would my life had been if I hadn't backed down, if I had been brave and told her how I felt.

"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 …" She nodded. That gesture alone was enough for me to feel suffocated. My whole life was before me, but so much of it felt like it was over.

"Thank you," I whispered, unable to control my voice any longer. "At least I can know for certain that, for one brief moment of our time together, you and I felt the same thing."

I held her as she cried, taking in every piece of her. Her smell, the softness of her skin. At this time, surrounded in the glow of our newly expressed love for each other, words were no longer necessary. A sudden question crept into my mind. What if she could stay? Could this be a reward for the misery that had been my life so far? I quickly dismissed the thought.

Would time wash away the ache building in my chest? It felt like the two of us were standing in a tornado, devastation ahead and behind, but stillness in this moment, at the center of it all.

As we laid there, I thought of all the pain in my life so far. I had always assumed that with the Selection, the happiness in my life could truly begin. But perhaps this was it for me, this small slice of happiness, holding the woman I loved in my arms and finally knowing she felt the same. Perhaps I would leave here and never have my happy ending. I realized it was worth it. These few moments with her were worth a lifetime of beatings, the next fifty years of discontentment which would certainly follow when she left. To have loved someone so fully was worth any price.