I let out a slow breath. “Your dad told me,” I continue.
Something in his expression tightens. Not defensive but like he’s been exposed. “He shouldn’t have-”
“I’m glad he did,” I cut in.
He goes silent like that wasn’t what he expected me to say.
“I needed to understand,” I lament. “Not to excuse it. Just… to understand it.”
He nods once, slowly and carefully. “I was trying to get ahead of it,” he admits. “The connection. The reason they’re targeting you.”
“I know,” I nod.
“And I thought if I had answers, I could control it,” he adds. “Keep it contained.”
There’s that word again: control. But this time, it doesn’t hit the same. It’s not softer but it is clearer.
“You can’t control everything,” I say quietly.
“I know that,” he replies. “I just… forget it sometimes.”
I huff a small breath. “Yeah,” I mutter. “I’ve noticed.”
A ghost of something light flickers across his face. It fades quickly. “I hurt you,” he states.
I nod. “Yeah.”
“I don’t want to be someone who does that to you,” he adds. It feels honest, not like a promise. More like a realization.
“I don’t want to be with someone who does that to me,” I affirm.
His jaw tightens slightly. “I understand.” The words come out steady. But I can see the tension in his hands and the way they flex slightly at his sides, like he’s bracing for impact.
“I’m not saying I’m done,” I continue.
His head lifts. There’s hope there again, in his expression and in his eyes.
“I’m saying this doesn’t just go away,” I add. “You don’t get to say sorry and have everything go back to normal.”
“I wouldn’t expect that,” he accepts.
“Good,” I reply. Because I mean it. “I need boundaries,” I say.
His posture straightens slightly. “Okay.”
“No more decisions about me without including me,” I continue. “I don’t care how urgent it feels or how much you think you’re protecting me.”
“I hear you.”
“No more using my body as evidence,” I add, my voice tightening slightly. “Ever.”
“Never again,” he says immediately. There’s no hesitation or deflection anymore, just firm certainty.
I nod slowly. “And if something like this comes up again,” I continue, “you tell me. Even if it’s complicated.Especiallyif it’s complicated.”
“I will.”
“You don’t get to decide what I can handle,” I add.
