I reached for the nightlight with shaking fingers. A soft click, a warm glow, and the room came back into focus. James sat on the edge of the bed, shoulders slightly hunched, eyes not on me but on his hands. What I saw under the covers wasn’t what my fear had prepared me for. It wasn’t shocking in the way people imagine. It was humbling. He had removed the brace from his injured leg. The scars were old, uneven, and angry-looking, mapping a past I had never asked about. But that wasn’t the truth that stopped my breath. Beside the...
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