Köhler keeps going like we’re discussing a contract clause, not a woman’s heart.
“She’s exhausted. She won’t say it because she’s been trained not to take up space, but she’s running on fumes. You want to help? Make sure she eats. Make sure she sleeps. Make sure someone holds the practical world together so she can focus on the emotional one.”
Lucy comes back, phone tucked away, expression drawn.
Then he looks at Lucy. “I’ll see you in two hours.”
Lucy nods. “Thank you.”
When he’s gone, she exhales like she’s been holding her breath since Switzerland.
I step closer, careful not to crowd her.
“What do you need, Lucy?” I asked quietly. “I am here for whatever you need. If you let me.”
Her eyes flick to mine.
Something raw moves there. Pain. Exhaustion. A flicker of longing, she immediately buries.
“Just…” she swallows. “Just don’t make promises you can’t keep.”
The words aren’t loud.
They don’t need to be.
I nod once. “Okay.”
And then I do what I should’ve done weeks ago.
I take out my phone and start cancelling.
Meetings. Calls. Dinners. A conference in New York, I was supposed to fly to next week.
I don’t ask Claire.
I don’t check with anyone.
I send one message to the Northwell team.
Me:All non-essential commitments postponed. I’m unavailable.
Then a second message to Rowan.
Me:Handle everything. If it burns, it burns.
And when my phone starts ringing immediately, I silence it.
Lucy watches, her expression unreadable.
“You don’t have to...” she starts.
“I do,” I cut in, then soften again. “I want to.”
She looks away fast, like she can’t afford to let that settle within her.
I don’t push.
Not yet.
