His eyes widened and he studied her face, and she knew the hardest part was yet to come. “I peeked in and saw you kneeling on the floor, your phone in your hand. You must’ve texted Naya. And then you crumpled into a ball. On the floor.” He stopped and fixed his eyes on hers, begging her to understand. “I couldn’t leave you there. I wasn’t even really thinking. I just knew I couldn’t leave you alone.” He took a deep breath and continued. “I picked you up to lay you in the bed, but you clutched my scrubs in your hand and cried, as if letting go of me would undo you. I know how it sounds, but I just stood there, holding you, until you fell asleep in my arms. I couldn’t leave you. I didn’t want to leave you. Once you fell asleep, I laid you down on the bed. I was covering you with a blanket when Naya came in. She assumed I was your nurse, and I didn’t correct her.” He stopped and swallowed, his eyes never leaving hers. “I lost someone—”

“Didi!” Annika started as Nilay stopped in front of them. He glanced at Daniel, then back at her. “Sorry, but, uh, the bride’s on her way.” He looked from one to the other. “Okay. Well, thought you’d want to know.” He made a hasty retreat.

She gave Daniel a small smile. “You were saying?”

He shook his head. “Never mind.”

Silence floated thick between them.

“How did you find me?” It was a whisper. He had taken care of her that night. He—his arms—that was the moment of peace and comfort she remembered. It was real. And it was him. She moved closer to him, her heart racing in her chest.

“I did have the address to the bar—you put it on your intake form—but I didn’t come looking for you until we had that call that night. The truth is, I would have eventually, because I couldn’t get you out of my mind.” He sighed. “I’m sorry. I should have told you from the start. There’s no good reason for not having told you that.”

She searched his face for the lie, but it wasn’t there. He opened his mouth as if he had something more to say, but he snapped it shut, as if a decision had been made.