This wasn't a hallucination, and it wasn't the drugs. There were no drugs this good, he was certain. He'd tried a lot of them, he had a pretty good reference point. This was better though. This was what he needed, what kept him going. Even if it meant that Westley had been right, he'd come to terms with that. Sometimes, not often, but sometimes the smug bastard made some good points.
He held her gaze. There was no bad time for that, was there? And now was a very good time. Now he was definitely going to live. He didn't care how many holes there were in him, he was going to get out of this hospital and get everything back to normal. He'd make things right. "I love you too. I always have. I'm sorry I was such an idiot."