He reads through it again, skipping over the report and focusing just on her handwriting.
If you're reading this, I have a favour to ask.
If I ask you to do this, I need you to not question me.
I need you to understand that I've done the research. I've given it a significant amount of thought.
When I ask you, I need you to breathe in my scent, so that you know. I love you, more than mere words can express, and I need you to trust me in this.
When the day comes that I come to you and I ask you to do this, I need you to set aside your own fears for me and trust that I understand exactly what it is I am asking of you.
If you're still reading this, I know you are flush with indignation, your instinct to protect me assaulting your rationality. I understand that, believe me I do. And if you find you can't, please tell me now, that I may spare us both the humiliation of me asking and you having to refuse.
If you feel that you can do this for me, then there is no need to say anything. When the time comes, all I ask is that you do this for me, without questioning. And I promise you, I will not ask this of you unless I am sure that it is what I want. With all my heart and mind.
Know that you're in my heart and in my thoughts, always. I love you, Richard. I have no idea how or why it happened so swiftly and so completely, I only know that it has. And I'm not inclined to question it. It would feel like questioning the inevitability of daybreak. It just is. And I am more than content to let it be.
He leans heavily against her desk, completely at a loss for words.