She forces a breath out.“Sorry.I’m...distracted.”
“You okay?”
She nods too fast.“Yep.Just tired.”
“You say that like you slept negative hours.”
Her lips twitch—almost a smile, but not quite.“Long night.”
I lean against the wall beside her, giving her space.I don’t want to crowd her like yesterday, like we all did.She said she needed space; I’m trying to respect it.
But god, it’s hard not to reach for her.
“You want coffee?”I ask.“Tea?My eternal devotion?A shoulder massage?A personal chauffeur?A four-hour nap?All of the above?”
She laughs.But it’s thin.Fragile.“Coffee’s fine.”
“I’ll get you one.”
“Finn, no—”
“I want to.”
She opens her mouth like she’s going to argue, then closes it again.That alone tells me she’s not okay.
I turn toward the direction of the café, but before I make it two steps, she says quietly:
“Finn?”
I stop immediately.“Yeah?”
She’s not looking at me—she’s looking at the floor, one hand wrapped tight around the other wrist, like she’s holding herself together.
“Can you...”She swallows.“Please don’t look at me like that.”
My heart pulls tight.“Like what?”
“Like I’m about to break.”
Fuck.
I didn’t mean to.
I swear I didn’t mean to.
“I’m not,” she whispers.“I’m okay.”
The lie is so soft, I almost miss it.
I step back toward her—but slowly, giving her the chance to stop me.
She doesn’t.
“Wren,” I say gently, “I’m not looking at you like you’re going to break.I’m looking at you like I care.”
Her breath stumbles.
Then she steps back.
