“Erase?” I supply.
He nods.
“You don’t,” I agree. Another beat of silence passes over us. “But I’m still here,” I say.
That gets his full attention.
“I’m here because I choose to be,” I continue. “Not because you decided something for me. Not because I need you to protect me.” My voice softens. Just slightly. “I’m here because I trust you to do better.”
Something in his expression cracks. “I will,” he asserts steadily.
“I know,” I reply. And I do; that’s the difference.
He exhales slowly, some of the tension finally leaving his body. “Boundaries,” he says after a moment.
I almost smile. “Yeah. Those.”
“Clear ones,” he adds.
“Very.”
“No more decisions without you,” he confirms.
“None,” I confirm.
“Even if I think it’s the right call.”
“Especially then.”
That earns a faint huff of a laugh from him. “Okay.”
I lean back slightly in the chair, studying him, really looking at him this time.
“You scared me,” I admit.
His gaze softens. “I’m sorry.”
“I know.” I pause again..
“And for what it’s worth,” he adds, “you scared the hell out of me too.”
I tilt my head slightly.
“I saw you in that ambulance,” he continues, voice quieter now. “And I thought-” He stops, not finishing it. He doesn’t have to.
“I got out,” I say.
“You did more than that,” he replies.
I don’t answer because we both know what I did. What it means. But it doesn’t feel like something I need to defend. It just… is.
I reach out again, resting my hand lightly over his, careful of the IV.
His fingers shift, just enough to curl around mine. Not tightly, but a steady weight that we both need.
We sit like that for a while, not talking because we don’t need to. The monitors keep their steady rhythm. The hospital hums around us. Everything feels still. Not exactly broken or fixed. But something in between.
Something real.
