The weight of the day clung to you like smoke, thick, choking, impossible to shake. You hadn’t said much when you walked through the door, just let your bag slide off your shoulder and gave Kate a look that told her everything she needed to know.

She didn’t press. Didn’t ask. She just reached for you.

Now, you were curled against her on the worn leather couch, one of her hands tangled gently in your hair, the other wrapped around your waist. The living room was quiet except for the low hum of a news channel neither of you were really watching.

“Rough day?” she murmured, her voice a warm blend of understanding and invitation.

You didn’t answer right away. Didn’t need to. Kate’s fingers trailed soothing lines along your spine, grounding you with every slow pass.

“I don’t need details,” she said softly, “just want you to know you’re not carrying it alone.”

Your chest tightened at that.

She tilted her head just enough to press a kiss to your temple. “Whatever it is, whoever it is—you’re safe here. With me.”