He looks down at his hand wrapped around my arm, and for a moment, confusion crosses his face—like he's surprised to see it there.

"I'm sorry. I'm just... I'm scared of losing you." He loosens his grip but doesn't let go. "Please don't leave me. Please. I'll do anything."

The desperation in his voice is real, and it breaks my heart even as it terrifies me.

"Let me go, James."

"I can't."

And I realize that he truly can't. His love for me has become a sickness, and I'm both the disease and the ...