The statement rocked me. Made me see our shared history through another lens. Anna was warm and friendly with most people. She was always ready to reach out a hand to help. But she rarely took that help in return. If something was wrong, she figured it out on her own.

I brushed her hair away from her face. “That doesn’t make you weak. You know that, right?”

“I know. But it does make me vulnerable.”

There was such pain in her statement—a bone-deep hurt at leaving herself open to the kind of betrayal she’d experienced before.

“I’m not Derek.”

Anna’s gaze shifted to her feet. “I know you’re not him. In my head, anyway. But people hurt each other every day. They might not mean to, but it happens.”

“They do. But the good ones do everything in their power to repair that hurt. To make it right and not do it again.”

“Sometimes, it’s too late.”

God, I knew that was true. Sometimes, the wound was deadly. And even if you recovered, it meant that you’d always be looking out for someone or something to hurt you in the same way. “Think you can let me try?”

Anna looked up into my eyes. “That’s what I’m doing.”

She was, I realized. By taking the help I had offered. By sharing her life with me, even if it was under false circumstances. By letting me stand by her side. And it wasn’t often, but every now and then, she leaned, let me lend her a little of my strength. “Okay.”

We were quiet for a moment as we stood on the side of the road. Frozen in time, in this bubble of hurt and hope, fear and the desire to fight. I wanted to dip down and close those few inches between us. To lose myself in her and forget about the storm swirling around us.

A truck honked as it drove by, breaking the moment. Anna stepped out of my hold. “We should go.”

“Probably a good idea.” I helped her back into my SUV and then rounded the hood.

“I should stop by Hope House and make sure they don’t need anything.”

“No way.”

“Excuse me?”

I pulled back onto the road. “You’ve been through hell today. The only thing you’re doing is going home, getting some food, and resting. Someone at the shelter will call if they run into any issues.”

“I might shove that food in your face if you keep ordering me around like that.”

I stole a quick glance at Anna, who looked more than a little annoyed. “Let me rephrase. Please, give yourself a day off. A slug day.”

“A slug day?”