Page 12 of Billionaire’s Ruin

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

Dannie crossed the space between us in three long, graceful strides. He moved like he used to dance—quietly, but with purpose.

I shook my head. “It’s okay. I’m alright.”

“Let me see.”

He guided me gently back down into the recliner. His touch was firm but never forceful.

“May I?” His hand hovered at the hem of my blue tie-dye T-shirt.

I nodded. “Like I said, I’m alright.”

He lifted the fabric just below my chest, revealing the faint, faded red lines that ran along my abdomen—scars that had healed but still whispered their story.

“Did you go to a doctor?” he asked carefully.

“I am a doctor, remember?”

“So you didn’t go to the doctor.”

Silence was my answer.

He was right.

“I…” I opened my mouth to argue, but nothing came out.

Every reason I thought of—too tired, too scared, too ashamed—sounded pathetic even in my own head.

“I understand,” Dannie interrupted gently, saving me from the weight of my own excuses.

“I have done the same thing—avoiding the doctor. You tell yourself you’ll be fine. Because it’s not life-threatening. You don’t want people to fuss. You don’t want people to think you want them to fuss. You’re afraid they’ll see the truth—that you’re hurt. That you lost. That you’re weak.”

His voice quiet as he crouched beside me. “I’ve been there. I really do.”

I stared at his reflection on the dark TV screen instead of at him.

Not everything he said was true, but he wasn’t far off.

My vision blurred.

“You reacted the only way you could,” he continued, quieter now. “Fast. Then once you got here, you didn’t want anyone to know. You were too proud to ask for help. You thought you could handle it alone. You’d rather die than let anyone see you broken.”

His words hit harder than I expected.

“Enough.”

The roar tore from my throat before I could stop it—raw, trembling, full of hurt.

“You’re right,” I snapped. “You see right through me. Are you happy now?”

“Not really.”

He reached out, his large hand cupping my cheek. His thumb brushed away a tear before I even realized it had fallen.

“I know exactly how you feel,” he murmured. “And it’s going to stay with you longer than you think.”

“What will?” My voice came out in a whisper.