Allyson's POV
"I can handle this myself," I said, steadying myself as I moved closer to where he stood.
"Don't," Michael commanded sharply, holding up his hand. "There's glass everywhere," he said, his voice rough and strained as he gestured toward the floor. "I won't have you getting cut."
My eyes dropped to see what he meant. Scattered around his feet were the remnants of what used to be a serving tray filled with crystal glasses, now reduced to glittering fragments across the marble floor. He crouched down awkwardly, his coordination clearly compromised as he attempted to gather the dangerous pieces.
Despite his warning, I navigated carefully around the debris and dropped to my knees beside him. "Just let me do this," I said firmly, already reaching for the larger shards.
