CLAUDE
No, no, no—
He shoved a hand through his hair, shaking his head like he could physically throw the thought away. "It was a fever dream," he said, forcing the words out like they might make it true. A dry laugh left his lips. "I was out of it. My head was f****d. It—"
"But it wasn't."
I moved before I could stop myself.
His gaze snapped to mine, and I saw it.
The fear.
Not of me.
Of knowing.
Of accepting.
Because once he did—there'd be no going back.
His expression hardened. His hand lifted, a single finger pointing at me.
"Don't."
I swallowed.
He turned, moving toward the door, and I thought that was it. That he would walk away.
But then he paused.
His back still to me, his hand gripping the doorframe like it was the only thing keepi
