Not withdrawn.
Just… processing.
Healing.
Her hand rests near mine.
Not quite touching.
But close enough.
I close the distance.
Deliberate.
My fingers brush hers—
Then settle.
She doesn’t pull away.
Doesn’t hesitate.
Just turns her hand slightly—
Fitting into mine like it belongs there.
Yeah.
That feels right.
“You okay?” I ask quietly.
She glances up at me.
There’s still pain there.
Still exhaustion.
But something else too.
Something steadier.
“I will be,” she says.
Honest.
Not pretending.
I nod once.
“That’s enough.”
Her fingers tighten slightly around mine.
“I heard what they said,” she adds softly.
“About Clay.”
