Damien's POV
She almost told me. Most people wouldn't have seen it. I did. It lasted less than a second. Her fingers loosened around the clipboard. Her shoulders dropped just enough to matter. Her eyes met mine. Not the doctor's eyes. Not the careful, professional look she'd worn for the past three years. Just Nora. Tired. Worried. Standing on the edge of letting someone help. Then it disappeared. Her jaw tightened. Her shoulders straightened. The wall went back up. "I'm late for rounds," she said quietly.
I nodded. "I know."
She searched my face. Maybe waiting for another question. Maybe waiting for me to argue. Three years ago, I would have. I would have stepped closer. Told her we needed to talk. Asked until she answered. Back then, I thought love meant refusing to let someone walk a
