It shouldn’t be. Another morning it might not have been. But I think you both woke up tangled in thorns, and it is hard to pull out thorns for someone else if your own are digging in when you move.
[ He could try to tell her that it’s different, that he’s different, that they’re different. That he’s never bitten Byerly’s hand. That he’s easy—that they could spend most of the morning talking about Alexandrie and Byerly and their feelings, all but replicating the worst irrelevant-afterthought feelings that Bastien woke from that nightmare with, and a silent worried look would be more than he expected and plenty to calm his heart.
But he thinks she knows, and knowing doesn’t make it better, and hearing it again wouldn’t either.
So he smiles. ]
I do. I’ll see you there. And I will tell him he is not allowed. Exiled. Maybe he will write you your paean after all.
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He could do it for you.
And that is why I cannot be there.
[ A breath, and she sounds again as she did when she first called; herself again, if subdued. ]
But I will stay in the office, if you like.
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But he thinks she knows, and knowing doesn’t make it better, and hearing it again wouldn’t either.
So he smiles. ]
I do. I’ll see you there. And I will tell him he is not allowed. Exiled. Maybe he will write you your paean after all.
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Thank you. For your kindness.
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