He's disoriented, trying to anchor himself in her arms. I'm so glad you're here, she says, and he presses his face against her shoulder, shivering, not sure he can stop. He doesn't want to be wherever they are. He wants to be as far from this place as either one of them can get.

I love you, she says, and it takes a moment for that to register. He draws back enough to look at her in bewilderment, trying to take in what she's saying in spite of their surroundings. This isn't the way you tell people you love them. This isn't the kind of place, the kind of situation where that's supposed to happen.

I needed you to know that.

A twist of poetry comes to mind and he says it automatically, voice soft with confusion and hurt still.

"I believe in love at first sight, but I will always believe that the people we love, we have loved before. Many, many, many times before, and when we stumble through grace and circumstance and that brilliant illusion of choice to finally meet them again, we feel it faster each time through."

He's crying again. Neal closes his eyes and shakes his head. "I'm sorry, I."

He presses his forehead to hers, hands tangling in her hair. "I want to say it too," he mumbles. "I want to say it too. I can't say it... here."