But I feel it—
His awareness locking in.
“He didn’t push you back,” Logan says quietly.
“No.”
“He made you hesitate.”
“Yes.”
There it is.
Clear now.
Defined.
Controlled.
And that—
That’s worse.
Because hesitation isn’t visible.
It’s not something I can fight directly.
It’s something that slips in between decisions.
Between instinct and action.
Between thought and movement.
“I don’t know when it’s happening,” I admit.
That’s the hardest part to say.
The part I don’t like.
The part that feels… unstable.
Logan steps just slightly closer.
Not closing me in.
Not crowding.
Just enough.
“Then we don’t let you carry it alone,” he says.
My chest tightens again.
Not from the pressure.
From him.
“That’s not how this works,” I reply automatically.
