BUT DADDY I LOVE HIM, ᵉᵛᵃⁿ ᵇᵘᶜᵏˡᵉʸ

050

The small office was quiet except for the gentle tick of the wall clock and the occasional scribble of pen on paper. Shelves lined the walls, filled with well-worn books and small trinkets that looked more sentimental than clinical. The space felt lived in. Warm.

Rylin had visited this office—Frank's office—many times, but this time was different.

She was different.

She sat stiffly on the couch, arms locked tightly across her chest like armor, jaw clenched as if even breathing too deeply might crack something open.

Frank glanced up from his notepad. "You can breathe, you know," he said gently. "This isn't an interrogation."

She let out a shaky breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. Her shoulders didn't move.

"Yeah," she murmured. "I know."

Frank nodded, offering a kind, patient smile. He was someone who knew how to sit in silence. Someone who didn't rush her.

"This is your time, Rylin. We can talk about anything you want. Or sit here in silence until you're ready."

"Being here just feels off," she muttered, eyes fixed on a spot on the carpet. "A lot's happened since I was here last."

Her gaze dropped to her hands, twisting the bracelet around her wrist—the one Buck gave her.

Frank followed her gaze. "That new?"

She hesitated, then nodded. "Yeah. It was a gift."

"From someone who matters?"

"Yeah," she said softly.

"Was it Buck?"

Rylin's breath caught just slightly at the sound of his name.

"Yeah," she said after a moment.

Frank didn't write anything down, just nodded like he already knew.

"He gave it to me at Christmas," she added, her voice quiet. "Even after I left LA—after I left him."

"You said a lot's happened," Frank said gently. "Want to tell me what changed?"

Rylin leaned back against the couch, the leather cool against her spine. "I thought I was doing the right thing—ending things with him. I kept telling myself I was protecting him. That I had too much going on and he didn't need to carry my weight, too."

"Do you still believe that?"

She let out a breath that was almost a laugh, but not quite. "I think I was scared. Of letting someone stay. Of letting him really see me when I wasn't okay despite him already seeing me in some of my worst moments."

Frank nodded thoughtfully. "And did he stay?"

Her eyes softened. "Yeah. He did."

There was a long pause as she turned the bracelet around her wrist, the small charm catching the light.

"He was there when I came back," she said. "He didn't push, didn't demand anything from me. Just... showed up. In that quiet, stubborn way he does. Like he was just going to keep showing up until I let him in."

Frank smiled softly. "Sounds like someone who cares deeply."

"He does," she said. "And that scares the hell out of me. Because it's not just him I'm carrying—it's everything else. My sister. My parents. My dad—"

Her voice caught, just for a second, and Frank's expression shifted slightly. He didn't push. Just waited.

"He's sick," she said finally. "Cancer. Occupational. From being a firefighter."