“I like you taking care of me.”
“Do you often need to be taken care of?”
“I could get used to it.” His voice softens. “Would that be so bad?”
He reaches up, tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, fingers lingering against my cheek. The touch is tender, careful. Like he knows I might bolt.
I lean into it. Just for a moment.
Then I pull away. “I need to get some gel for this bruise.”
I'm up and moving toward the bathroom before he can respond, pulse racing. A flimsy excuse, and we both know it.
When I come back with the arnica gel, he's watching me with an expression I can't read.
I kneel in front of him again, focus on uncapping the gel.
“Emma.” His voice is careful. “I don't want to push, but... did something happen? Did someone hurt you?”
My hands still. No one's ever asked me that directly. Not even Zoe, who knows most of it. People tiptoe around it, wait for me to bring it up. Kai just asks.
When I look up, his jaw is tight.
“You went radio silent for a week after I opened up to you.” My voice comes out steadier than I feel. “Please don't play with me. If you're just curious, we can talk about other things.”
He grimaces.
“I'm sorry,” he says. “I handled that poorly. I didn't know what to do or say, and instead of reaching out, I waited for you to contact me. I didn't know you as well then as I do now.” Hepauses, eyes searching mine. “I want to know everything about you, Emma. Your past. And I want to make your future better. If you'll let me.”
I focus on spreading the gel across his bruised shoulder. Easier than looking at him.
“I don't talk about this,” I say quietly.
“You don't have to.”
The silence stretches. My hands keep moving, smoothing the gel into his skin.
“He didn't hurt me physically,” I finally say. “Not in the way you're probably thinking.”
Kai stays quiet. Waiting.
“The psychological pressure was relentless. Every day, he found new ways to make me feel like nothing. Stupid. Ugly. Worthless.” I swallow. “He'd say it like he was joking. Said it so often I started to believe it.”
My hands slow on his shoulder.
“He'd grab me too hard sometimes. Leave bruises on my arms and act like I was being dramatic when I flinched. And the worst part?” My voice cracks. “I'm still not sure if I actually wanted him or if I just let him do what he wanted because the alternative was too scary. He made me so small that leaving felt impossible.”
I risk a glance at Kaiden. His jaw is clenched, his eyes dark.
“I got out eventually,” I add quickly. “I'm okay now. Mostly.”
I move to bandage his arm, swallowing past the lump in my throat.
He reaches out and envelops my hands with his.
“You show up at a fire scene and buy coffee for strangers,” he says quietly. “You talk to teenagers that cops ignored and get them to trust you in twenty minutes. You cry in front of paintings because beauty moves you. You called me out when I disappeared instead of letting me get away with it.” His thumbtraces circles on my wrist. “You wear your heart where everyone can see it, and it's not a performance. It's just who you are. You're the realest person I've ever met, Emma. And you make me want to be a better man.”
Tears prick at my eyes.
