Chapter 39 The promise

Chapter 39 The promise
Automatic doors hissed open, spilling cold evening air into the hospital corridor. Daphne flinched at the temperature shift, but she didn’t complain. She hadn’t complained about anything since the morning, not the swollen eyes, not the shaky breathing, not the way she kept holding her wrist like she was trying to keep herself from falling apart.

Michael didn’t push her. He just placed his hand on the small of her back and guided her outside.

The courtyard behind the building was quiet. A few smokers clustered near the far railing, murmuring about their shifts. A vending machine hummed beside the bench. The sky was dimming, soaked in a blue-grey that felt like it was holding its breath.

Daphne didn’t speak.

She wrapped her arms around herself and stared at the ground. He watched her for a moment, waiting for her to look at him, but she didn’t.

“Sit,” he said gently.

She didn’t sit. She stood there like she wasn’t sure she trusted her own legs. Her hair fell across her cheek, hiding her expression. She wasn’t wearing makeup, and she looked so tired it made something in Michael’s chest tear a little.

Michael sighed and sat down first. “Daphne.”

Nothing.

He leaned forward, He cupped her face fully now, both hands framing her cheeks with a tenderness that felt like it could crack bones if he wasn’t careful. His thumbs brushed the corners of her mouth, lifting her chin just enough that she had no choice but to meet his eyes.

. “You followed me here. You crossed half the country. You walked into a place you didn’t know to check on me. And now you won’t even look at me.”

“I’m fine,” she said, voice small but stubborn.

“You’re not.”

She glanced at him then with defensiveness but her eyes were red around the edges. She looked away again before he could say anything.

Michael shifted, turning to face her fully. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“I told you. I’m not…”

“Daphne.” His voice cut in gently but firmly. “Don’t lie to me.”

Her mouth pressed into a flat line. She didn’t move, didn’t breathe, didn’t blink. But he saw her throat tighten like she was swallowing something sharp.

“I wasn’t hurt,” she said again. Softer now. Almost whispering.

Michael stood. He stepped close, slow enough not to startle her. She didn’t back away, but she didn’t lift her head either.

When she finally looked up.

Her eyes were full. Not tears, not yet, but full of something she was fighting too hard to hide.

“I’m sorry,” he said again. “And I hate that I made you feel like you had to walk away.”

Daphne shook her head. “I didn’t walk away.”

“You did.”

She tried to look away, but he cupped her face again, just enough to guide her eyes back to his. His thumb grazed her cheekbone, warm and steady.

“You’re the one I’ll protect,” he said quietly. “Even from myself.”

Her breath caught.

The words hit her too fast, too deep. She blinked hard, and her hands curled into the sleeves of her jacket like she needed something to hold onto.

“You don’t have to protect me,” she said, but her voice wasn’t strong. “I don’t need…”

“You do,” he said. “And it’s okay.”

She shook her head once, confused and restless, like her emotions were pulling her in two different directions. Anger on one side. Relief on the other side. Both are too loud.

“You scared me,” she whispered finally. It slipped out before she could stop it.

Michael’s eyes softened. “I know.”

Silence stretched between them, not heavy, just honest. The silence that shows everything that words avoid.

Daphne exhaled slowly, her shoulders lowering the smallest bit. “Your friend… she looked…close to you.”

“She’s not what you think.” His voice was steady. “She’s a part of my past. That’s it.”

“I wasn’t jealous,” Daphne said immediately.

Michael let out a small breath. “Daphne.”

She closed her eyes, frustrated. “Fine. Maybe a little.”

He smiled, the smile was small and tired, but it felt real. He lowered his forehead to hers, barely touching. She stiffened, then slowly placed her hands against his chest, not pushing him away, just grounding herself.

“You don’t have to run from me,” he said.

“I didn’t…”

“You did,” he repeated, softer. “But I’m glad you came back.”

Her fingers curled slightly in his shirt.

She didn’t reply.

She didn’t need to.

For the first time since she followed him here, Daphne didn’t look like she was bracing for impact. She looked… present. Vulnerable. And he let his hands rest on her shoulders, steady and warm, like he was relearning the shape of her in his arms.

She leaned into him, slow and hesitant. Her head found his chest like it belonged there, and he let out a breath he’d been holding for hours. His arm came around her waist, pulling her close, not possessively, protectively.

Her voice was barely audible. “Michael… Am I too much?”

He kissed the top of her head. “No. You’re just enough.”

Her eyes fluttered shut. Relief, disbelief, and exhaustion, all of it washed over her in a quiet wave.

Michael felt her soften against him.

Then his phone buzzed in his pocket.

He ignored it at first.

Daphne noticed. “You can check it.”

“It can wait.”

“Michael,” she murmured, releasing him from her hold. “It’s fine.”

He hesitated and then pulled the phone out.

He checked the screen.

A message from Alasdair:

< Keep her close. Do not let her be alone. He’s moving.

Michael reread it once, then again.

He didn’t know who “he” was.

He didn’t understand the danger.

But Alasdair never sent messages like this.

It was never vague or urgent.

Daphne watched his face shift. “What’s wrong?”

Michael tightened his grip on the phone.

He looked at her. At her tired eyes. At the vulnerability, she’d let him hold for the first time.

He forced his tone steady. “We need to go inside.”

“Michael…”

He slid his phone back into his pocket

His voice was steady, but something darker wrapped around it now.

“It’s nothing you need to worry about,” he said.

A lie.

She felt it.

The screen lit again with a second message:

< There’s no time. He’s coming for her.

Michael didn’t know the ‘He’, but he knew one thing,

Whoever “he” was,

Daphne was the target.

And this time, Michael wasn’t going to let fate get a single step ahead of him.