The silence now was worse than the fight.
It sat heavy in the destroyed office, pressing into the cracked walls and overturned furniture.
Leah stood in the doorway, staring at the wreckage.
Then at Izana.
"Please don't shut me out."
Her voice was steady.
But barely.
Izana's jaw tightened.
"I'm not," he said.
"You are."
He didn't respond.
She stepped further inside, glass crunching under her feet.
Dante shifted awkwardly.
Elias watched everything carefully.
Leah's eyes fell to Izana's hand.
"You're bleeding."
"It's fine."
"It's not fine," she shot back. "You destroyed your own office."
"It doesn't matter."
"It matters to me."
That made him flinch slightly.
Elias noticed.
Dante noticed.
Leah stepped closer.
"What happened?"
No one answered.
Her gaze moved to Dante.
"Why are you bleeding too?"
Dante wiped at his lip with his thumb.
"Ask him."
Elias shot him a warning look.
"Dante."
"What?" Dante snapped quietly. "You want to lie to her?"
"I want him to tell her," Elias replied.
Leah's heart started pounding.
"Tell me what?"
Izana's voice came low and sharp.
"Drop it."
She turned to him.
"No."
Silence.
The tension shifted.
"What did you find?" she asked him directly.
His breathing turned uneven.
Dante exhaled.
"He found your file."
Elias muttered, "Dante—!"
But it was too late.
Leah froze.
"…My file?"
Izana's voice was barely audible.
"Yes."
"How?" she demanded.
"The nurse," Dante said quietly. "They collided. He saw your name."
Leah looked back at Izana.
"You opened it?"
He held her gaze this time.
"I read it."
"All of it?"
"All of it."
The air grew thin.
"And you didn't think to talk to me?" she asked.
He swallowed.
"What was I supposed to say?"
"Anything," she whispered. "You could've said anything."
"I saw the date," he said, voice cracking. "Three days before I left."
Her chest tightened.
"You remember," he continued. "You made me breakfast that morning."
She nodded faintly.
"You were worried," he said. "But you smiled."
"I didn't want you worried."
"You were bleeding," he snapped.
Her breath caught.
"And I didn't know," he continued, voice rising. "I didn't see it."
"You couldn't have known," she said.
"I should have."
"That's not fair."
"I promised you," he shot back. "I promised nothing would ever hurt you again."
"You didn't hurt me."
"I wasn't there!"
The shout echoed violently through the room.
Dante stepped forward slightly.
Elias lifted a hand subtly to stop him.
Leah didn't move away.
"You lost our child," Izana said, voice breaking. "And I wasn't there."
She closed the distance between them.
"You were trying to protect me."
"I left you three days later."
"You didn't know."
"I should have known something was wrong!" he roared.
"Stop saying that!" she cried.
The room went silent.
His breathing was ragged now.
"You think this is your fault," she said softly.
"It is."
"It isn't."
"I wasn't there," he whispered.
She stepped closer.
"And if you were?" she asked. "Would it have changed the outcome?"
He didn't answer.
"Would it?" she pressed gently.
His voice dropped.
"I would have held you."
Her eyes filled with tears.
"You needed me," he admitted, voice breaking further. "I needed to be there for you."
"And I needed you alive," she shot back softly. "You left to protect us."
"I failed our baby."
The words cracked him open.
A broken sound tore from his chest.
He turned slightly away, shoulders shaking.
Leah's heart stuttered.
He wasn't angry anymore.
He was unraveling.
"Izana," she whispered.
"I wasn't there," he choked. "You went through that alone."
"I wasn't alone," Leah said gently. "I had people."
"You didn't have me."
"That doesn't make it your fault."
He shook his head violently.
"You don't understand."
"Then explain it to me," she said, stepping in front of him again.
His injured hand trembled badly now.
Blood dripped onto the floor between them.
"I read how much blood there was," he said hoarsely. "How much you lost."
Her throat tightened.
"I read how scared you were."
She blinked.
"They wrote it down," he continued. "They wrote that you kept asking if I was okay."
Her breath stopped.
"You were asking for me," he whispered.
Tears slid down his face openly now.
Dante swallowed hard.
Elias looked down at the shattered glass.
"I wasn't there," Izana repeated.
Leah stepped forward and grabbed his face gently.
"You weren't there," she agreed softly. "But you would have been if you knew."
His composure shattered.
He let out a sob — raw and uncontrolled.
Dante went still.
Elias stepped back quietly.
Izana did not cry.
But now he was.
Openly.
His knees weakened slightly and he caught himself on the edge of the broken desk.
"I failed," he whispered.
"No," she said firmly.
"I failed you."
"No."
"I failed our child."
That sentence destroyed whatever strength he had left.
He broke fully.
His shoulders shook violently.
His breathing fractured.
"I hate myself," he admitted in a cracked whisper.
Leah stepped into him without hesitation.
"Don't say that."
"It's true."
"It's not."
He tried to pull back slightly.
She didn't let him.
Instead, she slid her arms around him and pulled him forward.
His resistance lasted half a second.
Then he collapsed into her.
Completely.
His hands gripped her tightly.
His head dropped.
She guided it gently to her shoulder.
He didn't fight it.
He didn't hide.
He just cried.
"I'm sorry," he whispered into her shirt.
"You don't apologize for something you didn't do."
"I should've protected you."
"You did," she insisted. "You always have."
"I wasn't fast enough."
"You are not God," she said softly. "You cannot control everything."
His grip tightened.
"I promised."
"And I never blamed you."
That made him freeze.
"You didn't?" he asked weakly.
"Never."
His breathing stuttered.
He buried his face deeper into her shoulder.
Behind them, Dante quietly muttered, "We should go."
Elias nodded.
They stepped out without another word.
The door closed softly.
Inside the ruined office, Izana clung to Leah like she was the only solid thing left in the world.
She held him just as tightly.
And as she did—
She realized something.
"You're different," she whispered without thinking.
He stilled slightly.
"…What?"
"You don't hide it anymore."
"Hide what?"
"This," she said gently, brushing her fingers through his hair. "Your emotions."
He didn't answer immediately.
Old Izana would have stepped back by now.
Would have straightened up.
Would have wiped his face and rebuilt the walls.
But he didn't.
He stayed in her arms.
"I don't know how to anymore," he admitted quietly.
Her heart clenched.
That confirmed it.
Something happened while he was gone.
Something that changed him.
"You tremble in your sleep," she whispered.
He went quiet.
"You never used to."
"…You notice too much."
"I always have."
A weak breath left him.
"I'm tired," he admitted softly.
"Of what?"
"Carrying it."
She didn't ask what it was.
Not tonight.
Instead, she pressed her lips gently against his hair.
"You don't have to carry it alone."
His grip tightened.
For the first time since he returned—
He didn't argue.
He just stayed there.
Letting her hold him.
Letting himself break.
And Leah made a quiet promise in that moment.
Whatever changed him…
She would wait until he was ready to tell her.
Tonight—
She would just be the place he could fall.