"Especially since I've missed yours," she must say, with a little tip of her head. She's missed Dion's, too. Torgal is likely tired of her having full conversations with him.
This close to her, it's hard not to feel guilty about already inviting her into his arms. He can't claim to want distance if he does this, but not holding her and seeing her upset face feels like a dagger in his side. He swallows his breath.
"I don't know either," he said. "But I can't help but feel we talked more before we made love. We had to fill the silence somehow, even if we avoided anything complicated, everything hard. How can we expect our relationship to be steadfast when we are intimate in body and avoid the rest?"
"And how is that your fault?" She asks, voice gentle. Sitting this close seems to be of no consequence to her as she looks at him. "We were both there. Both given opportunity to steer conversations or start them. Just as we both could have pushed the other to speak to Joshua about Origin."
"At least as far as Joshua is concerned," he says, "I told you not to talk about him or Origin at all. I can't say how I might have reacted if you did push me, but I threw down the gauntlet first."
Another valid point. She lets out another slow breath, settling her head on his shoulder.
"I've never wished to hurt you by demanding details," she says. Oh, but it hurt her. Left to wonder and fill in the gaps and her imagination ran wild with horrible things. "It's nearly been a year since, now."
"Long enough that I've begun to doubt what I saw and felt, and what I have turned over in my mind too many times," he admits, but he moves right on: "I'm sorry, Jill. I shouldn't have put my pain first."
"Oh, Clive," she breathes out and drapes an arm over his middle, as much of a hug as she can manage in the back seat. "I understand why you did it. I could tell when you were thinking of Origin and what happened there. Only you know, and that is an unimaginable burden. To try and simply carry on, after that... it's impossible."
He turns his head away slightly, like looking out the window might dull the prick of tears in his eyes, but they're almost at the pier, and he has to just draw a long breath to pull himself together, his free hand laying overtop hers.
"I waited for death for a whole year," he says. "And I dragged you miserably through every minute of it."
Just because she understands doesn't mean she hasn't been hurt. She's been hurt in ways she never imagined she could, but she's survived it like all the rest.
Jill lifts her head and bumps her nose against his jaw. He doesn't have to look at her.
"Then I think we should live a little tonight," she tells him. "Forget dinner. Let's go to the amusement park and simply... put the past behind us for now. And tomorrow we start anew."
Her eyes close, enjoying the warmth of his skin before turning her face up to kiss his cheek.
"It does. And whatever has happened between you and I this past year, I've forgiven you," she says quietly. Not so much for what occurred between him and Dion, but time will tell for that. She squeezes his hand once before reluctantly pulling away so she can lean forward and tell the driver where to take them.
Jill settles back into her own space, but she does reach for his hand to lace their fingers together.
"If you wish to share with me what happened, I will listen. Always. But I won't ask it of you," she says. A part of her doesn't want to hear it, but another would yet still like to know so that her mind didn't continue to conjure up nightmares.
"Soon," she agrees. Her smile is gentle, encouraging. She's waited this long. "We can talk about anything. Or at least we must try to. I miss... being the person you can talk to and confide in."
“I do too,” he says. Her smile makes him feel like there’s hope for them, but he’s had the rug pulled from under him too many times to not feel cautious. “There was a time where we’d travel together and hardly be out of earshot for weeks at a time…”
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"I've missed yours too. I'm sorry to have denied you it."
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Ever since they've had the freedom to be together as lovers, there's been so much turmoil.
"I don't know how to take it slowly."
Is this it?
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"I don't know either," he said. "But I can't help but feel we talked more before we made love. We had to fill the silence somehow, even if we avoided anything complicated, everything hard. How can we expect our relationship to be steadfast when we are intimate in body and avoid the rest?"
He trails for a beat, and adds:
"It's my fault."
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"I didn't test the waters very much, did I? I feel like I should have at least tried to approach it with you before things got as bad as they did."
Before Dion felt the need to charge ahead. Likely, Clive would have shut her down. Still, she can't help but have her regrets.
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"I've never wished to hurt you by demanding details," she says. Oh, but it hurt her. Left to wonder and fill in the gaps and her imagination ran wild with horrible things. "It's nearly been a year since, now."
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"I waited for death for a whole year," he says. "And I dragged you miserably through every minute of it."
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Jill lifts her head and bumps her nose against his jaw. He doesn't have to look at her.
"Then I think we should live a little tonight," she tells him. "Forget dinner. Let's go to the amusement park and simply... put the past behind us for now. And tomorrow we start anew."
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"Alright. As long as the amusement park has food."
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"It does. And whatever has happened between you and I this past year, I've forgiven you," she says quietly. Not so much for what occurred between him and Dion, but time will tell for that. She squeezes his hand once before reluctantly pulling away so she can lean forward and tell the driver where to take them.
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"I forgive you too," he says. "A fresh slate between both of us."
Still, he feels relieved when she pulls away. They need to keep space.
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"If you wish to share with me what happened, I will listen. Always. But I won't ask it of you," she says. A part of her doesn't want to hear it, but another would yet still like to know so that her mind didn't continue to conjure up nightmares.
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Maybe they need to go camping.