"What person?"
He doesn't answer.
"Your dad," I say quietly. "You think you're turning into your dad."
His eyes flash. "Don't."
"Why not? That's what this is about, isn't it? You saw a bruise and panicked because you remember what your mom's bruises looked like. You think if you can hurt Scout, even by accident, even when she asks for it, you're just like him."
"I said don't."
"But here's the thing." I lean against his truck. "Your dad hit your mom because he wanted to. Because he was angry. Because he was a piece of shit who got off on hurting someone smaller than him." I meet his eyes. "You left because you were terrified of hurting her. Those aren't the same thing."
"You don't know what you're talking about."
"Maybe not. But you know what the worst part is?" I wait until he looks at me. "She thinks it's her fault."
His head snaps up. "What?"
"Scout. She thinks she asked for too much. She thinks she scared you away. She thinks she's broken."
"No—"
"I heard her yesterday. In the bathroom. Talking to herself." I quote her words exactly. "'I ruined everything. Evan was right about me.'"
Something breaks in his face.
"You left because you thought you hurt her," I continue. "But she thinks you left because she asked you to hurt her. You made a choice for her. Decided she was too fragile. Just like Evan used to."
"That's not—"
"If you don't fix this, you're going to lose her. Not because you hurt her. Not because she's scared of you. But because she'll spend the rest of her life thinking she's too broken to be loved."
The silence stretches between us. Suffocating.
"Tell her the truth. About your dad. About the bruises. About why you panicked."
"I can't—"
"Yes, you can. Tell her it wasn't her fault. She didn't ask for too much. She's not broken." I meet his eyes. "Because if you don't, she's going to believe she is. And that'll destroy her worse than any bruise."
He's quiet for a long moment. Then: "This is your fault."
I blink. "What?"
"You told me to give her space." His voice is rising. "You said she needed time. You said—"
"I said she needed space to process what Evan did to her." I step forward. "Not space to think you abandoned her because she's broken."
"You should have—"
"Should have what? Read your mind? Known you saw a bruise and spiraled?" I laugh, but there's no humor in it. "That's on you, man. All of it. I can't make you be brave."
His hands curl into fists.
I see it coming half a second before it happens. See the rage and guilt and fear all twisting together in his face. See his weight shift.
His arm draws back.
