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 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.