Martin held her tighter.
One hand cradling the back of her head, fingers threading gently through her hair like he was afraid the strands might slip away if he loosened his grip even a fraction. The other arm wrapped firmly around her waist, palm flat against the small of her back, anchoring her to him as though she might vanish if he let go. He didn't speak. He didn't try to fix anything with words—not yet. He just let her cry.
He let the frustration pour out in shuddering waves against his chest.
He let the anger burn through every sob that wracked her body.
He let the fear leak out in the way her fingers twisted into his shirt, clutching like she was drowning and he was the only solid thing left.
He let the exhaustion collapse against him until her legs trembled and her weight sagged completely into his embrace.
He held her through it all.
Through the hiccuping breaths that slowly evened out.
