“Did he push?”
“No. That was the worst part.” I rubbed my eyes with my free hand. “He gave me room. Like, actual room. And I still couldn’t say it.”
“You don’t owe the full truth before you’re ready.”
“I know. But he’s been watching me disappear, apparently.”
Declan was quiet for a second. “Has he?”
The question wasn’t accusation. It still caught.
“Yeah,” I said. “I think so.”
“What did that feel like?”
“Awful.” I stared at the ceiling. “Also... not awful. He noticed. I hate that he noticed, but he noticed.”
Declan’s exhale moved through the line. “That matters.”
“Yeah.”
Another pause.
Then I asked, “Did you call Olivia?”
“Yes.”
I held still.
“How was it?”
“Familiar,” he said. “That’s the honest answer.”
I didn’t know what to do with that.
“She’s in Chicago until Thursday,” he continued. “She talked about a client crisis, a delayed flight, a restaurant she wants to try when she’s back. I told her about the game. Tiny barked at the dishwasher. We sounded married.”
The ache in his voice was controlled, but it was there.
“That hurt?” I asked.
“Yes.”
My fingers twisted in the blanket. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize for the part that belongs to me.”
“I’m in it.”
“Yes,” he said. “You are.”
No soft exit. No easy lie. Somehow that made me trust him more.
“Vanessa dinner is tomorrow,” I said.
“I know.”
“I don’t want to go.”
