I could see how much this weighed on him. It was like a physical force pressing against his body, tensing the tendons in his neck, turning his broad shoulders into a fortress of guilt.
“I’ll never forgive myself for that,” he said quietly.
“I’m sure your mom doesn’t blame you for her accident.”
“Even worse, she blames herself.” He scrubbed a hand over his stubbled jaw. “Just like she blames herself for what I did. She thinks she failed somewhere as a mother. No matter how many times I tell her otherwise, she keeps looking back at what she did or didn’t do.” His voice cracked, just barely. “My mom took us to church every Sunday. She showed up to every parent-teacher conference, every Little League game. Both of my parents did. They were loving and supportive and taught us right from wrong. My actions in no way reflected what they taught me.”
It felt like, today, Knox and I had unexpectedly taken a swim in the deep end of honesty. We’d started in the shallows, testing the temperature. And somehow, without meaning to, we’d drifted past the point where our feet could touch the bottom.
“Why did you do what you did?”
Protecting his daughter—that was what he’d implied. But that didn’t really explain it. Protect her from what exactly? Had a man been trying to hurt her, and Knox stepped in, but made one wrong move, and the guy was dead by his own gun?
He swallowed. “Does it matter?”
“To me it does.”
“Why?”
I set down the clipboard. Met his gaze directly.
“Because I can’t figure you out. By all accounts, you seem like a normal, protective, kindhearted guy. And by your own admission, you came from a really good family who taught you right from wrong.” I shook my head slowly. “So, how does someone like that commit homicide?”
His eyes dropped to the floor. His jaw worked like he was chewing on words he couldn’t swallow. The openness from a moment ago started closing, a door swinging shut inch by inch, and I could feel him retreating somewhere I couldn’t follow.
“It was to protect someone,” I said softly. “You’ve told me that much.”
“Can we drop this?” His tone was sharp and distant.
And just like that, the warmth between us flickered. I hadn’t realized how much I’d been leaning into it until he started pulling away.
My heart pounded against my ribs. I wanted to pull Knox back to me. So, I pulled him back the only way I knew how.
I shared something about my life. Something I’d rarely shared with anyone, and Knox was the first person I didn’t fear would judge me for this.
“My parents are addicts.”
His gaze locked on to mine. Every ounce of his attention focused on me like a spotlight.
“Addiction is a disease.” I picked up a roll of gauze, turning it over in my hands just to have something to do. “I’m a nurse. I know that. But sometimes I still get so mad at them. I want them to try, you know? Fucking TRY to get better. Because they’re the only family I have.”
The words started spilling faster now, a dam finally breaking.
“Some days, I consider cutting them out of my life because it’s just so toxic. So hurtful. So painful to be chronically rejected and mistreated by the two people who are supposed to love you unconditionally.” I blinked hard. “But then other days, I feel like the world’s worst human being for even considering that. Because they really did the best they could. I had a roof over my head. Food to eat. Clothes to wear. I was enrolled in school. They never physically abused me.”
My voice wobbled. I hated that it wobbled.
“So, the days I feel angry, I very quickly feel like a terrible person for not appreciating them enough. They’re alive. Do you know how many people lose their parents and would give anything for the chance I have?”
My throat tightened. My vision blurred.
I didn’t realize tears had started sliding down my cheeks until Knox moved.
He closed the distance between us slowly. Giving me time to back away if I wanted to.
I didn’t.
He raised his hand, and I saw the hesitation. His fingers hovered an inch from my skin, like he was asking permission without words. Like he knew what it meant for a woman like me to be touched by a man like him.
