"Anna…" his voice came out rough, barely more than a breath.
She stiffened for a second, caught off guard by the suddenness of his touch, then slowly relaxed into his hold. His heartbeat was fast—too fast—and she could feel it even through his coat, a frantic rhythm that betrayed everything he wasn't saying.
It was then she realized what she had been doing.
The silence. The distance. The way she kept retreating into her thoughts instead of letting him in.
And it was hurting him.
"Please…" he whispered against her hair. "Whatever it is—memories, dreams, fate—just don't shut me out."
Anna closed her eyes, guilt washing over her.
For the first time that evening, the tension in her shoulders eased. Not completely, but enough to let her breathe again.
"I'm not trying to push you away," she said softly. "I'm just… scared of what you might find if you keep digging."
Scared of what he might remember.
Scared of what it might do to him.
