The clinic smell hits you the moment you step inside.

It’s a mix of disinfectant, coffee, and a kind of quiet that feels too serious to be normal.

Ian walks beside you, shoulders tense, eyes scanning everything like he expects something to jump out.

You can feel the fear in him before he says anything.

“You okay?” you ask, keeping your voice calm.

He nods too quickly.

“Yeah,” he says, but it comes out thin.

You glance at him.

He’s wearing his jacket even though it’s warm inside. Hands shoved in his pockets. Shoulders hunched like he’s trying to make himself smaller.

You take his hand.

He doesn’t pull away.

That’s a good sign.

You both sit in the waiting room, and the silence between you feels heavy—like it’s full of things you’re both afraid to say.

Then Ian speaks, low.

“I’m scared,” he admits.

Your stomach twists.

“I know,” you say.

He looks at you, eyes honest and raw.

“I’m scared I’m gonna mess up,” he says. “I’m scared I’m gonna think I’m okay and then—”

“Then what?” you ask softly.

He swallows hard. “Then I’m not.”

You squeeze his hand.

“You don’t have to do this alone,” you tell him.

He lets out a shaky breath. “I know. But it’s hard.”

You nod. “It’s supposed to be.”

Ian’s eyes flick away.

“I don’t want to go back,” he whispers. “I don’t want to be that person again.”

You lean in closer, voice steady.

“You don’t have to be that person,” you say. “You’re not that person.”

He closes his eyes for a moment.

“I feel like I am,” he says. “Like I’m just waiting for the next time.”

You take a deep breath.

“Then we’ll walk through it together,” you say.

He opens his eyes slowly. “Together?”

You nod. “Every step. Even the ones that feel scary. Even the ones that feel like falling.”

He stares at you for a moment, like he’s trying to memorize your face.

“Why are you still here?” he asks quietly.

You smile softly, a little sad.

“Because you’re worth it,” you say. “Because you’re worth fighting for. Because I don’t want to lose you.”

He blinks, and you see the emotion rise in him—fear, relief, gratitude, shame.

“I don’t want to lose me either,” he whispers.