The sound is quiet but immediate, like some of the tension leaves him every time my fingers move.
“Still hurting?” I ask softly.
“No,” he says. “I’m fine.”
Good.
I keep working my fingers through his hair, making slow circles along his scalp.
“I used to think this would fix everything,” I say after a moment. “Warm water. A few good touches. The right kind of silence.”
“It fixes a lot,” he murmurs.
My hands keep moving as I press gently at the base of his neck.
His whole body shudders under my hands, and he lets out a breath that sounds like relief.
My fingers slow in his hair, sliding down to the side of his face for a second before returning to his scalp.
The words sit in my chest for a moment before I let them out.
“I didn’t leave because of you.”
I can feel the shift in him even before he opens his eyes and looks at me.
“I didn’t leave because of a fight,” I continue quietly. “Or because you did something wrong. I left because I couldn’t feel anything anymore.”
My fingers move again, slower now.
“I couldn’t get out of bed some days. I’d stare at the ceiling for hours and feel completely blank. Food didn’t taste like anything. Music didn’t sound like anything. I’d sit in a room full of people and still feel like I wasn’t really there.”
My hand drifts down for a second, brushing along his jaw before returning to his hair.
“I stopped returning calls. Stopped showing up to class. I skipped meals and then forgot I was supposed to care about that. I failed a clinic assignment because I couldn’t make myself write two pages.”
Two pages.
Even now it sounds ridiculous.
“I told myself I was just tired,” I say. “That I’d snap out of it.”
Rowan reaches and grabs my hand.
His grip is warm. Steady.
I swallow.
“I didn’t snap out of it.”
My eyes drop to the water for a moment before I continue.
“And I didn’t want you to see me like that. Not because I didn’t trust you. But because you were so… you. Focused.Disciplined. Always moving forward. And I was barely moving at all.”
His fingers tighten slightly around mine.
“I didn’t know how to explain it,” I admit. “I didn’t know how to ask for help without sounding dramatic or broken.”
“You think I would’ve thought less of you,” he says quietly.
