Page 125 of Unconditionally Yours
I laugh. “No promises there wasn’t something weird on those burgers last night.”
Her arms tighten. There’s a tremble in her that hasn’t quite settled.
“He invited me out tonight. I’m going. After that I’ll message you. Check in. Make sure you’re okay,” I say.
“Oh.” She clutches me tighter. “Oh. Wow. That’s… I’m not sure what to do with this level of okayness.”
“You don’t have to hold it,” I say, wrapping my arms around her. “You can just lean on it. Just… don’t run from it, okay?”
She nods against my chest, and I press a kiss to the top of her head.
It’s not the part where she runs to someone else that hurts. It’s how fucking hard it is to let go when all I want to do is keep holding on.
But I do. I let her go. Because I’m trying to be the kind of man she doesn’t have to claw her way out from under. And maybe Jett can’t be as soft as I want for her right now, but maybe that’s the point. Maybe that’s why she keeps chasing us all like her survival depends on it.
I watch her walk away, the hallway swallowing her in slow motion.
And it hits me.
She’s scared.
Not just of what happened. Not just of being seen smeared and shaken. But of this, us. Me and Jett not at each other’sthroats. Rhys letting his guard drop. All of us orbiting her instead of pushing her out.
That’s not what she knows.
Instability is her safety blanket. And stability, hell, that’s the real threat. Because what if it lasts? What if we stay? What if the chaos quiets down enough for her to hear all the shit she’s spent her life running from?
What if we’re too steady and she panics and leaves anyway?
Shit.
I spin on my heel and beeline for Rhys’s office like he’s got a cheat code for loving someone who’s never been loved right.
The front desk lady gives me a sharp look, one brow cocked like she can see through me. “Can I help you?”
“Is Dr. Hartwell available?” I ask, trying to play it casual and failing spectacularly.
“He’s with a client. Can I take a message?”
“No thanks,” I say, backing up like I just asked to see a priest mid-exorcism.
Because what the hell was I thinking? Hi, I need to speak to the man whose patient we both love. I’m not on his roster, but could I borrow his trauma-informed wisdom for a sec?
I step back into the hall and pull out my phone.
Then open the group chat.
Me: Can you message me when you leave her?
It’s for Jett, but Rhys will see it too, and maybe that’s fine. Maybe they should both know I’m in this for real.
Me: Just saw her in the hall. She looks good. Just, you know… worried about her.
Then I switch to her contact.
Me: Miss you already.
I stare at the screen, wondering if I’m doing any of this right.
