Page 120 of Danger

There it is. The reason.

I look at him fully now. “My car…” I swallow. “It’s?—”

“Forget the damn car,” he cuts in, but it’s not sharp. It’s desperate. “Winnie, I thought—” He stops. His voice fractures. He looks away like he’s angry at himself for letting that slip.

“I didn’t know if I would ever get you back.”

The room feels smaller. His hands are shaking.

Danger doesn’t shake.

I study him like I’m seeing him for the first time. The scrape on his cheek. The way his shoulders are hunched forward like he’s been bracing for impact for hours.

I swallow. “Danger…”

“Don’t.” He shakes his head immediately. “Not now.”

Not now.

Not apologies.

Not explanations.

Not the fight.

His eyes finally meet mine fully, and there’s nothing guarded in them. Just terror.

“I don’t care about any of that right now,” he says. “You hear me? We’ll deal with the rest later. Be mad. Hate me. I deserve it. But you don’t get to leave us. Not like that. All that matters is you being okay.”

I stare at him.

This man who was terrified of being trapped, being in a relationship.

This man who keeps one foot out the door.

This man who thought I might not come back.

He reaches for my hand. And hesitates. Like he’s not sure he’s allowed.

I look at his hand—scraped, swollen, hovering in the space between us. And I curl my fingers into his anyway.

His breath leaves him in a rush. Not dramatic. Not loud.

Just the sound of a man who’s been underwater and finally breaks the surface.

His forehead dips toward our joined hands. He doesn’t kiss me. Doesn’t pull me close. He just holds on.

And then the door bursts open before anyone waits for permission.

“Winnie!”

My mom rushes in first, dad behind her. Someone is crying. Someone is laughing in relief. The room fills with warmth and noise and hands touching my hair and my face.

Danger stands immediately. He lets go. Not abruptly. Not cold. Just… carefully.

He steps back like he understands this isn’t his moment.

My mom is kissing my forehead. My dad is brushing tears away like he doesn’t want me to see.