That one word nearly shattered me.
Because he used to say it exactly like that whenever I got overwhelmed.
Gentle.
Careful.
Like handling something fragile.
“I’m okay,” I lied.
“No, you’re not.”
My laugh came out shaky. “Well… at least you still know me a little.”
The second the words escaped, regret hit me.
Because his entire face changed.
Not triumph.
Not satisfaction.
Pain.
Pure pain.
Like hearing me admit I remembered him hurt worse than pretending I didn’t.
“You knew me too,” he said quietly.
I couldn’t breathe for a second.
Because he still thought I ignored him.
Still thought I stopped loving him.
And standing this close to him while carrying the truth about those letters suddenly felt unbearable.
Before I could answer, the front door opened again.
Every Ranger in the room reacted instantly.
Trigger turned.
Hersh shifted in front of me automatically.
Protective.
The movement was so fast, so instinctive, it stole my breath.
A tall man in a dark jacket stepped inside holding up both hands.
“Easy,” he said. “FBI.”
Michael.
Relief hit me so hard my knees nearly buckled.
