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Once the bleeding slows, I shut off the faucet and grab a clean dish towel. I fold it, then press it gently against the cut. “You’ll need to keep pressure on it for a minute.” She nods absently, her eyes never leaving her finger. A tense silence settles between us, and I study her face. “Charlotte?” She blinks. “Are you okay?”

“I…” Her voice wavers. “I’ve just…” She looks up at me, her green eyes shining as they lock with mine. She appears so unsure, as if she has so many things on her mind she can’t quite say out loud. “I’ve never had someone…” Her gaze falls to the towel wrapped protectively around her finger. “Take care of me before.” She blinks hard, like she’s trying to hold back every single tear that wants to escape.

The words punch the air from my lungs.

And then it hits me.

Every time she was ever injured by the hands of Garrett, it was she who had to take care of herself afterward.

The realization settles heavily in my chest, turning understanding into something almost painful.

She looks up into my eyes, and I say the first thing that comes to me. “You’re not alone anymore.”

Her bottom lip trembles, her eyes looking down.

I pull the cloth away and, satisfied to see that the bleeding has stopped, I retrieve a bandage from the drawer beside the sink and carefully wrap it around her finger, smoothing the edges into place with more care than such a small wound probably deserves. I meet her eyes again. “Good as new.”

She stares at the bandage and takes a deep breath. “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“If it’s okay, can I…” Tears slowly travel down her cheeks, and all I want to do is reach out and brush every single one of them away. “Can I hug you?”

My heart thuds beneath my chest, aching at the vulnerability in her voice.

I don’t hesitate.

I don’t wait.

I simply open my arms for her.

She steps into them without pausing, her body relaxing against mine as if she finally realizes she is safe with me.

I keep my hold loose, giving her a chance to step out of it if that’s what she wants. Instead, her fingers curl into the back of my shirt as she wraps her arms around me.

And everything suddenly feels…right.

As if right here is where she was always meant to be.

In my arms.

In my home.

Her cheek presses against my chest. “Thank you.”

I rest my chin on the top of her head, running my palm slowly up and down her back. “Anytime you need a hug, I’m here.”

She tips her chin back with a shy smile curving her lips, quickly brushing the tears from beneath her eyes before reluctantly stepping out of my embrace. Her gaze drops to the mound of freshly grated Parmigiano, dotted with crimson droplets.

“I should throw this out and start over,” she murmurs, disappointment coloring her voice.

“How about…” I step to the other side and open a drawer. Reaching inside, I retrieve a pair of cut-resistant gloves and hold them up. “You could wear these this time?”

She grins, a rosy blush spreading over her cheeks as she rubs her temple. “I’m so embarrassed.”

I hand her the gloves. “Trust me, this doesn’t even make the top ten kitchen disasters I’ve witnessed.”

She laughs quietly, accepting them from me. “That somehow doesn’t make me feel better.”