"You're tired." There wasn't a question in his tone. How could he have been this fuckin' dumb? Just wake up after being stabbed and say he wanted to proposed, knowing how wrecked Tara looked. The fuck had that morphine done to his head?

"I should've waited to say." He extended a hand again, but she was still out of his reach. Maybe she always had been, in a way.

"We've had a rough day."