Grim’s arms tightened around her.
And for the first time since the night she was taken, Sophia felt him breathe — really breathe — like the weight he’d been carrying finally loosened in the safety of her arms.
Chapter 38
Grim
Sophia needed space.
Grim knew that. He’d felt it in the way she’d pulled her hands into her sleeves that morning. In the way she’d avoided his eyes. In the way she’d said, “I need to try,” with a voice that shook like she was holding herself together with thread.
So he gave her space.
He hated every second of it.
He watched her walk to the bathroom, watched her tie her hair back with trembling fingers, watched her force a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. She looked like she was wearing her own skin wrong, like it didn’t fit anymore.
When she said she wanted to go back to work, Grim’s stomach dropped.
Not because he didn’t think she could. But because he knew she wasn’t ready.
But he didn’t say that. He didn’t say anything.
He just nodded and said, “I’ll drive.”
Sophia stiffened. “I can drive myself.”
Grim swallowed the instinct to argue. “Okay.”
He watched her walk out the door. Watched her get into her car. Watched her hands shake on the steering wheel.
He didn’t follow her.
Not at first.
He lasted seven minutes.
Then he grabbed his keys and followed at a distance, far enough she wouldn’t see him, close enough he could get to her if she needed him.
He told himself it wasn’t stalking. It was protection.
He wasn’t sure he believed himself.
Sophia parked outside the hospital and sat there.
Grim could see her through the windshield, her hands gripping the steering wheel, her shoulders rising and falling too fast, her chest heaving like she couldn’t get enough air.
He didn’t move.
Not yet.
He watched her stare at the hospital doors. Watched her try to breathe. Watched her fail.
Then she opened the car door and stumbled out, her knees buckling as she braced herself against the side of the car.
Grim was out of his truck before he realized he’d moved.
“Sophia.”