“I know.”
Two words.
But they carry everything.
Guilt.
Frustration.
Something deeper.
I swallow.
Turn back to his shoulder.
Focus.
Because if I don’t…
I’ll feel too much.
“You should’ve stayed down,” I say, trying to keep it clinical.
“You should’ve stayed inside,” he shoots back.
I almost laugh.
Because we’re the same.
And we both know it.
I finish bandaging his shoulder.
Check his ribs again.
Careful.
Gentle.
“Nothing broken,” I say.
“Bad bruising. You’re going to hate the next few days.”
“Already do.”
I step back.
Just slightly.
And that’s when it hits me.
How close I’ve been.
How close I still am.
The space between us feels charged.
Different.