“I was ashamed,” she says. “I thought if you knew the whole story, you’d never have hired me. And if you didn’t hire me, I wouldn’t have… anything.”
Boone’s jaw clenches, trying not to soften.
Silas’s expression is wrecked. He wants to wrap her up in humor, but can’t find the right shape for it.
I stare at Delaney’s hands.
They’re the hands that cut herbs carefully. The hands that braid Sadie’s hair without tugging. The hands that shook in the kitchen when she saw that post.
They’re clenched now. She’s holding herself in place.
I lean forward slightly.
“You pushed me away,” I say.
It comes out quiet. Direct.
Delaney’s head snaps up.
I keep my voice even because if I let it wobble, it’ll turn ugly.
“You didn’t just hide the truth from Boone,” I continue. “You shut down with me. You stopped letting me… be near you.”
Her eyes widen. “Caleb?—”
“No,” I say, and my throat tightens anyway. “You let me sit with you. And then after that, it was like you decided you’d taken too much and you had to pay it back by pulling away.”
Silas’s gaze flicks between us.
Boone is staring at the floor now, shoulders rigid.
Delaney cracks. “I didn’t mean to make you feel?—”
“Like I did something wrong?” I finish.
She flinches.
I exhale through my nose.
“I’m not mad,” I tell her. “I just… I don’t know where I stand.”
Silas lets out a breath. “Thank you. Yes. That. That’s the whole problem.”
Delaney’s hands unclench. Then clench again.
“I can’t do this,” she says.
Boone’s head lifts. “What does that mean?”
“It means I can’t blur lines with my boss again,” she snaps. “I can’t make the same mistake. I can’t be the woman who… who sleeps with a man who has power over her and then spends the rest of her life being called a name for it.”
Boone goes still.
Silas’s face tightens.
My stomach drops because I understand what she’s saying, and I hate it anyway.
“I’m not your boss,” Silas says immediately.
