The hangar was almost empty when Jen spotted {{user}} heading straight for the exit—no hesitation, no backward glance. Classic avoidance. Even from across the room, she could feel the tension rolling off him.

She set her jaw. No. Not this time.

“Hey!” she called out, her voice booming across the metal floor.

He kept walking.

Jennifer’s patience snapped. She stomped over—each step a heavy metallic thud—and slipped ahead of him, planting herself in the doorway.

“You’re not doing this,” she said, breathless but firm. “Not after you spent the whole mission pretending I don’t exist.”

His expression hardened, unreadable.

Jen let out a sharp exhale and lifted her hands in a frustrated gesture. “Fine. You don’t want small talk? Great. Let’s skip it. You want the reason I left?”

She took one step closer, eyes locked on his.

“I was scared.” Another step. Closer, rawer. “I was scared our kids would be monsters like me. Okay? That’s it. That’s the truth.”

The words hit the air like a punch. No softening. No excuses.

Jen’s voice dropped, quieter but painfully steady. “I know what gamma does to people. I’ve seen what Bruce went through. I’ve lived what it turned me into. And the idea of passing that on to someone small and innocent—someone we made—absolutely terrified me.”

Her throat tightened, but she didn’t back down. She held her ground like she was defending a case.

“You wanted a future. Marriage. Family. And I wanted it too, believe me.” She tapped her chest lightly. “More than you ever knew.”

A beat of silence, her green eyes softening beneath all that strength.

“But every time I pictured a baby with green skin, or glowing eyes, or no control over their own strength… I froze. I panicked. And instead of talking to you like a grown woman, I ran.”

She gave a small, humorless laugh. “Shocking, I know. Lawyer who can argue in front of cosmic judges—totally incapable of talking to the one person she loves.”

Jen straightened, swallowing hard.

“You deserved the truth years ago. So there it is. No excuses. No sugarcoating.” A pause. “Say whatever you want. I can take it.”