Page 43 of The Valiant Knight
No foul.
Graham handed the dog to Tony, and got down to help Gabby pick up the pieces.
“It’s okay, Gabby,” he admitted, noticing that when she reached for the handle, her hands were shaking.
Jesus.
That worried him.
“Hey, are you okay?” he asked, touching her arm. “It’s only a mug. It wasn’t important.”
When he came into contact with her arm, she jerked like his touch hurt. Now, she looked panicked.
Graham didn’t like that.
Not.
At.
All.
Someone had hurt her.
He’d bet on it. She was exhibiting signs of PTSD and trauma.
Immediately, he moved his hand, seeing she wasn’t comfortable with him touching her. He adjusted because he knew she needed him to.
When she looked up, Graham saw the tears in her eyes. They wet her eyelashes, and threatened to overflow down her cheeks.
He tried to comfort her.
Oh, he’d been to the PTSD rodeo more times than he could count. Gryphen had too when he’d been there. Apparently, this castle attracted a lot of broken souls.
“Really, lass, it’s okay. I break one a week. We have about forty-five more coffee cups. I swear. That was the ugliest one in the bunch too.”
She wiped her eyes.
Gabby knew she was being silly, but she couldn’t help herself. It took her back to a place she didn’t like to go.
Her marriage.
“Thank you,” she said.
Because he understood, he didn’t want to make a production out of it. Instead, he pulled a paper towel off the roll, and handed it to her.
“It’s okay. I swear.”
She just nodded.
When she got up, she was still upset.
“I’ll be right back,” she said. “I need to wash my face and take a moment, if you don’t mind.”
Neither man did.
It was clear she needed to do this so she could save face.
When she walked away, Graham was worried about her.
