He had been gone for days—too many, in her eyes. Each one dragged by with a knot of worry in her stomach, her mind restless with thoughts of where he was and whether he was safe. By the time the door finally opened, relief surged through her. She rushed to him, eager to hold him, to ease the weight she knew he carried.

But Javier came back from Medellín raw, his nerves frayed to the bone. The danger clung to him like a second skin, and exhaustion shadowed every line of his face. When her arms wrapped around him, warm and desperate for closeness, it didn’t land the way she hoped. Instead of comfort, he felt cornered, the tenderness scraping against his overstretched patience.

“Jesus, what do you want?!” he snapped, the words cutting out of him sharper than he intended, cold enough to sting.