His jaw tightens again.
“And keeping me benched isn’t?”
“Keeping you alive isn’t a mistake.”
The words hang there.
Heavy.
Because that’s the truth.
Raw and unfiltered.
Something flickers in his eyes.
Gone almost as quickly as it appears.
“Not your call,” he says quietly.
That one lands.
Deep.
Final.
Because he means it.
Because no matter what happened—
No matter what almost—
He’s still him.
And I’m still—
Not part of that world.
Not really.
I straighten slightly.
Rebuild the distance.
Fast.
Professional.
Controlled.
“Fine,” I say coolly. “Then go.”
His eyes narrow slightly.
“Go,” I repeat. “Push it too soon. Tear something worse. Collapse again. See how that works out for you.”
Anger flashes across his face.
Real this time.
