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Rough.
The word feels deliberately small.
“But?” I prompt carefully.
Knox looks up at me. “But people knowing someone hurt you and people understanding what it actually feels like are two very different things.”
“Knox.” My eyes soften as I reach for his hand.
He squeezes mine right back.
“Point is, everyone’s gonna tell you you’re safe now,” he continues. “And right now, you are. But your body might take a while to believe them.”
There’s no joke hiding in his expression this time. Nothing shielding what he’s trying to tell me.
I let out a broken laugh, my brows pulling together. “I thought I was past it.”
“Doesn’t work like that,” Knox says quietly.
I search his face. “How do you know?”
“Because I’m still working on it.”
Before I can respond, the door opens and Dean walks in carrying a hot cup of what I think is soup and a packet of crackers.
“This is all I could find, but at least it’s better than that vending-machine sh—” He stops when he notices Knox sitting beside me. “Oh. Hey. I didn’t see you come in.”
“Just wanted to check on Blair Bear.” Knox gives him a smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.
Dean looks between us, his expression shifting with concern. “You good?”
“Yeah, Ashford. I’m always good.”
Knox stands and presses a kiss to the top of my head before pulling Dean into a quick hug, clapping him on the back as he steps away.
“Take care, Blair Bear.” He pauses near the door. “Hey, that rhymes.”
He chuckles weakly at his own joke before walking out.
The joke lands.
Barely.
But I let him have it.
Something tells me Knox needs the laugh more than I do.
Forty Six
Blair
Everything hurts.
Not dramatically. Not enough to send me running back to the hospital. Just enough that every movement reminds me of yesterday.
I sit up slowly, wincing when my ribs protest. We didn’t get home from the hospital until after midnight last night. By the time the nurse finally discharged me and Dean asked for the hundredth time if I was definitely okay to leave, I was getting irritated.
I snapped at him a couple of times.
