He still smiled when he saw me.
"Well," he said. "Either I'm hallucinating beautifully or you've come to admire my suffering in person."
I stayed near the doorway. His eyes moved over me carefully, then sharpened.
"You're limping."
I ignored that and uttered only one word, "Why?"
He blinked once, then laughed softly.
"Why are you here is admittedly what I hoped you meant."
I didn't move. The laughter faded when he realized I was serious. He adjusted himself on the couch, then regretted it immediately if the tightening around his mouth meant anything.
"I was there because it is, annoyingly, part of my job," he said.
I waited.
"The ridge access road sits on weathered shale and loose fill," he continued. "So I went up there to recheck movement markers and close the route before larger equipment came through. Then I heard your team had already been deployed."
His voice softened.
"I knew where you'd be."
Something in my chest tightened.
"The second collapse started sooner than predicted. I stayed long enough to move barriers and redirect the trucks."
My throat opened and closed around the next words.
"You...could have died."
He went still. Then, very gently, he said, "Yes." Pain crossed his face then, quiet and real. "I was not eager for it," he added. "But if those vehicles had taken that road, we would be speaking about funerals and headlines."
The room held that sentence between us. When I looked back, he was watching me with an expression stripped of performance.
"April," he said softly, "I am bruised, stitched, somewhat decorative with bandages, and currently unable to open jars."
His smile returned, gentler now.
"But I am alive."
I exhaled shakily. Then I set down my bag and looked toward the kitchen. His brows lifted.
"Are you robbing me alphabetically?"
I rolled my eyes and pointed toward the kitchen, then at him. Understanding warmed his face.
"You want to help."
I nodded.
"That is dangerous information," he said. "I could become spoiled in under an hour."
I waited.
He studied me for a moment, humor slipping into something quieter.
