It was denser. Heftier.
Because she had no idea.
She had no idea what that had been like on my end. No idea, I wasn’t the kind of man who stayed on the line, who held space, who let someone fall apart without trying to fix them. I was built for action, for stepping in. Not for just sitting with someone else’s pain. Maybe it was the way I grew up, or the training drilled deeper with each year in the service. See a problem, find the solution, don’t let it linger.
Letting emotions linger felt like leaving a door unlocked. It let in everything I couldn’t control. Moving was simpler than absorbing someone else’s pain. Maybe that’s why holding space seemed impossible, like standing in a storm, hoping not to be shattered.
So I didn’t do it, didn’t know how to. At least not without it costing something.
But with her—
I wanted to.
That was the problem.
My thumb hovered over the screen, my jaw tightening slightly as I typed.
Me:You can’t do that again.
I paused, exhaling through my nose, then added—
Me:Next time, call me. I’m here.
This wasn’t just about Harper anymore.
That line had already been crossed.
And I knew exactly why that made something in me push back.
Because caring like this, caring without distance, without restraint, meant stepping into something that could be lost as quickly as it was found.
I exhaled slowly, dragging a hand through my hair.
Didn’t matter.
Not tonight.
Tonight, she was okay.
And for the first time since everything in me had gone on high alert—
That was enough to finally let my body settle from high alert, the lingering fear dulling into something manageable.
Not fully.
Not completely.
But enough.
And as I lay back down, the memory of her voice still sitting somewhere steady in my chest, I let myself hold onto that one thing.
She didn’t have to do it alone.
Not anymore.
Not if I had anything to say about it.
Chapter 21
