I shift with her, blocking gently, keeping my body between her and the open street without touching her again. Giving her space, but not letting her vanish.
“Delaney,” I say. “Look at me.”
She doesn’t want to. I can see that plain as day. If she looks at me, whatever’s holding her together is going to snap.
Her breath catches anyway.
Then the tears come, sudden and relentless, spilling down her cheeks. Her body finally gave up pretending this wasn’t happening. She makes this small, strangled sound and clamps her mouth shut, shoulders curling inward, trying to fold herself out of existence.
Fuck.
That hits me right in the chest.
I step closer, turning us so her back’s against the storefront instead of facing the street. Shielding her without making it obvious. I put a hand on her arm.
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” I murmur. “You ran into me, not traffic. We’re good.”
People walk past.
I do not care.
I lower my voice further, just for her. “It’s okay. You’re safe. I’ve got you.”
Her fingers curl into my jacket. Whatever happened before she hit me wasn’t small.
I glance down the street once, scanning for anything that might be following her.
Nothing obvious.
Good.
“Come on,” I say gently. “Let’s go home.”
She nods without lifting her head.
The drive back is quiet.
Delaney stares out the window, knees drawn up, hands twisted together in her lap, holding the fragile part of herself.
Whatever happened, she’s not ready to say.
And I don’t push.
When we pull into the ranch, she barely waits for me to park before she’s opening the door.
“Hey,” I say softly. “You wanna?—”
“I just need to lie down.”
My chest tightens.
“Yeah,” I say immediately. “Of course. Go.”
She doesn’t look at me as she heads inside. Moves fast, the sound of her footsteps disappearing down the hall. Her bedroom door closes quietly.
I stand there in the kitchen for longer than necessary, staring at nothing.
Then I blow out a breath and go find Caleb.
