The steady tick of the clock in Dr. Hales office filled the silence between them.
Xander sat forward, elbows on his knees, eyes fixed on the floor.
“So,” Dr. Hales began softly, her tone professional but tinged with something warmer. “You went to see her?”
He nodded once. “Yeah. I brought coffee, wanted to apologize for last night.”
“And?” she urged, leaning slightly forward.
“She hid her phone the second I walked in,” he said tightly. “Like a teenager caught texting past curfew. It was nothing, I’m sure, but…”
He exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand down his face. “It’s always nothing, isn’t it?”
Dr. Hales studied him carefully— the tension around his jaw, the exhaustion beneath his eyes. “You sound… tired.”
“I am,” Xander admitted. “Every conversation turns into a war. Every silence
