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Just one—
I let myself feel it.
The relief.
The fear I’m not going to name.
The fact that if he had gone down—
No.
Stop.
I pull my hands back.
Too fast.
Reset.
Distance.
“You’re not dying,” I say.
He huffs out a breath.
“Good to know.”
I glare at him.
“You’re welcome.”
“I didn’t say thank you.”
“You’re thinking it.”
He studies me.
Then—
“Yeah,” he says quietly. “I am.”
That—
That hits harder than it should.
I look away.
Because if I don’t—
I might forget everything else again.
“…this is getting worse…” I mutter.
“What is?” he asks.
I don’t answer.
Because I don’t have one that won’t get me into trouble.
