I stop, unable to keep going.
Her hands still on my back. “After your brother what?”
I shake my head. “Nothing. Forget it.”
“Roman.” Her voice is softer now. “If you want to talk, I’m happy to listen.”
“I’m fine.” The words come out too sharp. “Can we just finish?”
She doesn’t respond, just resumes working, but something’s shifted. The silence feels heavier now, weighted with what I’m not saying.
“You don’t have to be fine all the time,” she says quietly. “Not with me.”
I don’t answer. Can’t. Because if I start talking about Matty here, in this room that smells like menthol and vanilla, with her hands on me like this, I might not stop.
Her phone buzzes on the counter. Once. Twice. Three times in quick succession.
She ignores it, but I can feel her hands press harder into my shoulder, like she’s trying to work out her own tension through mine.
It buzzes again.
“You can check it,” I say.
“It’s fine.” But there’s tension in her voice now, in her hands.
“Marnie.” I twist to look at her over my shoulder. “Check your phone.”
She hesitates, then reaches for it. I watch her face as she reads, see the exact moment her professional mask slips. See the fear underneath before she hides it again.
“Everything okay?” I ask, though it clearly isn’t.
“Fine.” She sets the phone down with hands that tremble slightly. “Just my mom’s aide checking in.”
The confirmation of what Dex told me. Proof that she’s dealing with exactly what I suspected.
“If you need to cut this short?—”
“I don’t.” Her voice has an edge now. “I’m fine. My mom’s fine. Everything’s fine.”
“Okay.”
“Don’t use your captain voice. The one that saysyou want to fix whatever’s wrong.” She returns to my shoulder, digging in harder than necessary. “I don’t need fixing, Roman.”
“Never said you did.” I turn my head away, giving her space to rebuild whatever walls she needs. “Just checking if you needed to leave.”
“No. But... thank you.”
The session ends ten minutes later. She walks me through the next set of exercises, all business again. When I leave, she’s already setting up for her next patient, and I have to physically stop myself from looking back.
I’m sittingin the lounge hours later when Dex texts.
Dex
So how’d it go with your definitely-not-a-thing PT?
Professional.
Dex
