Page 102 of Triplet Babies for my Ex's Best Friend

I reach for it before thinking better of it. “Let me see.”

She startles slightly at the contact, then stills as I turn her hand gently, examining the skin where he grabbed her.

No bruising yet, but that doesn’t mean there won’t be.

My jaw tightens.

“I’m okay,” she says again, softer this time.

I release her hand slowly, aware of the moment remaining a fraction longer than necessary.

She pulls it back, wrapping her fingers around the glass again because it gives her something to hold onto.

We sit in silence for a beat.

Captain sighs heavily, settling his weight more firmly against her legs. He’s decided this is his post for the foreseeable future.

Addy lets out a breath. “Well, that was not how I pictured my night ending.”

I sit down across from her, leaning forward just enough to keep my attention fully on her without crowding the space. “What happened?”

She swallows. “Nothing dramatic at first. We were just talking. At the bar. He seemed normal.” A humorless huff of breath. “Which, apparently, is no longer a reliable indicator of anything.”

I don’t interrupt.

She takes another sip of water.

“I left early,” she continues. “Wasn’t really feeling it. Walked home. Thought it was fine.” Her fingers tighten slightly around the glass. “Then he followed me.”

My hands curl into fists against my knees. “And you told him to leave.”

“Yes.”

“And he didn’t.”

She shakes her head. “No.”

She gasps desperately as the memory flickers through her once more.

“I hate that,” she says suddenly, frustration cutting through the fear. “I hate that I have to think about things like that. Walking home. Saying no the right way. Not being too rude, not being too nice, not making it worse…”

She looks down at the glass in her hands.

“I hate that my brain immediately goes tookay, how do I not escalate thisinstead ofwhy is this happening at all.”

I watch her carefully. The anger is good, better than fear.

“Your reaction was appropriate,” I say.

She lets out a short, disbelieving laugh. “That’s a very structured way to look at it.”

“It’s an accurate one.”

She glances up at me, a searching look in her expression. “I didn’t feel very… structured.”

“No,” I say. “You felt threatened. That’s different.”

She studies me. Then her shoulders loosen slightly. “Thank you.”