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“I’m functional.”
That lands.
Harder than I expect.
His eyes narrow just a fraction.
“That’s not the same thing,” he says.
“I know.”
Silence stretches between us.
Different now.
Not soft.
Not steady.
Tense.
Controlled.
I step past him, moving toward the door.
Not rushing.
Not avoiding.
Just… creating space.
“I need to get briefed,” I say.
His hand catches my wrist.
Not tight.
Not forceful.
But enough to stop me.
Everything in me stills.
Not fear.
Awareness.
His voice is lower when he speaks.
“That’s not what this is.”
I don’t turn right away.
I look at his hand first.
Warm.
Steady.
