Page 104 of Through the Storm

“Try to joke your way out of this conversation.” She crosses her arms. “You don’t get to deflect. Why have you been acting weird, and why do you look like shit?”

Wyatt nods once. “No jokes allowed for this.”

I huff a breath. “Wow. United front. Love that for me.”

“And Declan is fully aware we’re hanging out,” Ella adds, crossing her arms. “And deeply unbothered. So you can relax.”

Wyatt grins. “It’s an HR-approved hangout.”

That gets a weak laugh out of me despite myself. It fades quickly.

“Okay.” I hold up my hands. “Fine. No jokes.”

The quiet that settles is heavier now. Real.

I move to the couch and sit, elbows on my knees. Danny hops up beside me immediately, pressing his full weight against my leg like he’s anchoring me in place.

Ella sits next to me, close but not crowding. Wyatt leans forward in the chair, forearms resting on his knees, listening without pushing.

“She ended it,” I say finally.

Ella’s breath catches. “Katy?”

I nod.

“I don’t understand,” I admit. “Everything was going great. And then suddenly we weren’t. She said she needed space. Like thatexplained anything.”

I rub a hand over my face.

“I keep replaying everything I said or did. Trying to figure out where I screwed it up.

Because I always do. I always want too much or say something wrong or…” My voice cracks. “I don’t know what I did, El. But I fucked it up. Again.”

Ella’s hand is on my arm immediately. “Oh, Ben, you didn’t.” Her voice is firm, gentle all at once. “You really didn’t.”

I shake my head. “You don’t know that.”

“Yes, I do.” She doesn’t hesitate. “I watched you. You showed up. You were patient. You were honest. You were kind. You’ve been so wonderful to her.”

Wyatt speaks before I can argue.

“Sometimes people don’t leave because you did something wrong.” His voice is quiet, steady. “They leave because they’re not ready for what you’re offering.”

I look up at him.

He meets my gaze without flinching. Fucking Yoda.

“You reached a place she’s not ready to stand in yet,” he adds. “That’s not the same thing as fucking up.”

I lean back against the couch, staring at the ceiling. The house smells like coffee and wet dog and whatever candle Ella always has burning to try to cover up the dog smell. Normal things. The world moving on, even if I’m broken.

“It still hurts.”

“Yeah.” Ella’s voice softens. “I know.”

Danny shifts, nudging my chest with his nose before settling again, warm and heavy. Like he’s personally offended by my emotional state.

“At least I have you, Danny,” I mutter.