His expression shifts.
Just slightly.
“I am not doing that again,” I add.
The words come out before I can stop them.
Too honest.
Too real.
His gaze sharpens.
Locks onto mine.
“Why?” he asks.
One word.
Quiet.
Dangerous.
Because he’s not asking about the mission.
He’s asking about me.
About why I care.
Too much.
More than I should.
I freeze.
Just for a second.
And that’s all he needs.
“Because I don’t like losing patients?” he presses, echoing my earlier words.
Damn him.
“That’s not—”
“Then what is it?”
The room feels too small.
Too tight.
Too close.
Because I don’t have an answer I can give him that doesn’t change everything.
“That’s not the point,” I say instead.
“It is to me.”
