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I want to cross the store and pull her against me.

I don’t.

This was the point of bringing her here.

Not the glass. Not the jewelry. Not the mess.

I needed her to do something loud.

Something ugly.

Just Clair, a crowbar, and a store full of breakable things that couldn’t hit back.

No hands on her. No knife at her throat. No man making her feel small.

Before I can teach her how to fight someone else, she has to believe she’s allowed to take up space.

So I stay where I am and let her breathe.

The last shard stops skittering.

Her shoulders cave. Her head drops.

Then a sob breaks out of her, raw and quiet all at once.

I cross the space before I can think better of it.

She turns into me the second I reach her, grabbing my jacket with both hands. Needing something solid to hold on to.

I give it to her.

One hand settles at the back of her head. The other spreads across her back, steady and slow, holding her without trapping her there. She shakes against me, and every part of me wants to pull her closer.

I don’t.

This is not about what I want.

She asked me to teach her. To make her stronger. To be safe.

So I stand there in the middle of the ruined jewelry store with glass under my boots and her tears soaking into my shirt, and I keep my hands gentle. Still. Careful.

After a while, her breathing slows. Her grip on my jacket loosens, fingers uncurling one by one, but she doesn’t step away right away.

I let her decide when to move.

When she finally pulls back, she wipes at her face, eyes red and swollen but clearer than they were a minute ago. Not fixed. Nothing works that fast.

But steadier.

She looks at the broken cases, then at the crowbar on the floor, then at me. “Thank you, Leon.

I want to tell her she never has to thank me for this. That I would stand guard while she shattered every mirror, every window, every old version of herself that ever made her feel small. That if she asked me to burn the whole damn town down because it once made her feel ashamed, I’d find the matches.

Before I can reach the notebook in my back pocket, she steps closer and rests her hand against my chest.

Her eyes lift to mine.

Then drop to my mouth.