Her eyes pressed shut briefly as he took her hand, and she squeezed it instinctively in return. Drawing in a deep slow breath, she whispered, "Love you." A little louder, but with her lips still just above his collarbone, she repeated, "I think... I love you, Charlie." She swallowed nervously and then pulled back, her eyes slowly and hesitantly looking up to meet his. She was nervous and worried and hopeful all at the same time, to see what his reaction would be, what he'd think. Maybe it was too soon. Maybe she shouldn't have said anything, but in the weeks and weeks of him almost always being at her bedside at the hospital, of him being the one she'd grown to rely on, well... it had just happened.