I lowered myself until my head rested in his lap.
The angle was not elegant.
It was perfect.
Noah’s fingers moved through my hair.
“What happened downstairs?” he asked.
“We planned the office position.”
His hand paused.
“Because I got sick.”
“Because I have spent years running the yard badly.”
“You run it well.”
“I repair boats well.”
“Different skill.”
“Yes.”
His fingers resumed their slow movement.
“Is this because you need to be available for me?”
“Partly.”
Guilt crossed his face.
I caught his wrist.
“Partly does not mean blame.”
“You wouldn’t hire someone if I hadn’t been injured.”
“I should have.”
“You didn’t.”
“No.”
I sat up enough to see him.
“I tried to become essential to every function in the yard. Then I expected Caleb and Owen to do the same whenever I disappeared.”
“You didn’t disappear.”
“I left because I needed to. The result for them was still more work.”
Noah listened.
“The new position means phones get answered, customers get updates, parts arrive, payroll stays organized, and I can sit beside you in a hospital without wondering whether three people are trying to do six jobs.”
His expression softened.
