She could take care of herself. She was more than capable. The problem was that she didn’t let anyone stand beside her while she did it.
I had seen the reflex. The immediate refusal. The instinct to shut it down before it could become something more complicated.
Support didn’t have to come with a cost. It could just… be there.
She deserved to experience that—even if she didn’t trust it yet.
My jaw tightened slightly as I considered the last few minutes. I had stepped in. Answered for her. Made a decision she had been about to refuse. I exhaled slowly, keeping my posture loose even as the thought settled in.
I would not do that again without asking, but I also wouldn’t apologize for doing it. Not when it meant she would eat. Not when it meant she would rest. Not when it was something that made her life easier, even if she didn’t like how it happened.
My gaze returned to her.
She was still watching me, still deciding how to handle me.
I could give her space to be angry if she needed that. But I wasn’t going anywhere unless she explicitly told me to leave.
Chapter 10
Zoey
My new apartmenthad settled into its night shape, with the lights dimmed and sounds reduced to small clicks and the hum of the plumbing. Even Markie had gone quiet, which never meant asleep so much as saving his energy for later judgment.
Liam stood near the couch with his hands folded loosely in front of him, posture easy, attention sharp. He had that look again. The one that said he had already decided something and was now just waiting for the polite window to explain it.
“The doctor protocol says I need to wake you every few hours,” he said. “Just to check in.”
I blinked at him. “I’m fine.”
“I know.”
“You do not need to babysit me.”
“I’m not.”
I stared at him. He stared back. He did that thing he was always doing where he didn’t rush the silence, like it didn’t make him itchy or make his skin crawl.
“I’ll sleep on the couch,” he added. “I won’t be in the way.”
There it was. The offer that wasn’t an offer. The solution was too reasonable to argue with without sounding ungratefulor unhinged or both. I had secretly thought he was placating the doctor and would leave me to myself tonight.
The vulnerability I had allowed myself during the day was one thing. But nighttime brought on a different level of vulnerability that I was simply not ready for.
My chest tightened.
It wasn’t even Liam himself that was doing anything wrong. That was the worst part. It was just the shape of it. The way care slid so easily into occupation. The way help, once accepted, tended to grow roots and expectations and invisible ledgers I never agreed to keep.
If I let him stay tonight, what did that buy him tomorrow?
Nothing, the rational part of my brain said.Liam hadn’t asked for anything. He hadn’t hinted. He hadn’t even stepped closer.
But another part of me, older and sharper, kept track of patterns instead of promises, and it whispered incessantly to me.
People who took care of you always wanted something later. Time. Gratitude. Emotional access. Compliance. Even the good ones eventually reached for their return on investment.
I hated that part of my brain.
“You really don’t have to,” I said, my voice softer now.
