“You survived,” I said firmly, looking up to meet his gaze. “That’s not weakness, Blake. That’s courage.” A tear escaped down my cheek, and Blake caught it with his thumb in a gesture so achingly gentle that it made my chest tighten. I wanted to tell him he didn’t need to comfort me, that I should be the one wiping away his tears, though his eyes remained dry. Something twisted in my gut at the thought that maybe he’d shed all his tears long ago, in dark rooms, where no one had been there to catch them.
