Oh. Fuck. Hugh's expression shifted from smiles to something more serious as he reminded himself he couldn't have known. "God, I'm sorry, I -" he stopped uncertain what to say. It seemed likely that they'd been together for years, if Theodore had come to America in 2002 and their first date had been to Anastasia, Hugh might not be great at math, but it was a long time, a good portion of Hugh's life, anyway. He knew how much it had hurt to lose M's friendship, even if that had been only a few years, never a marriage, and mostly entirely his own fuck-up. He could imagine, anyway, he built a life off of putting himself in other people's shoes. But he didn't know if Theodore wanted to talk about it, and he hadn't meant to pry in the first place, so instead he leaned on the arm of his chair in Theodore's direction, hoping to offer at least some support in his direction with his next words. "I would love to meet Elaine, and we'll do dinner here some night."
The glass was resting on the arm of his chair and he turned it gently with his fingers as he watched for Theodore for a moment, and then his gaze drifted out to the lake, the way the sun was shifting light across the waters as it set, the dusk very definitely dropping into darkness. And it occurred to him that perhaps he ought to offer Theodore a ride home since it was likely going to be after dark when they finished the wine. After a moment he turned back, and considered.
"Strange things happen here," he offered, turning a hand out as if gesturing to the woods themselves. "I don't know if anyone told you that. The realtor didn't bother to leave me that information on the 'welcome to your new house' note," he added wryly. No, he'd found it out that first strange Halloween party. And talks of things in the woods from others that seemed to leave as much unsaid as not, and shared dreams, and parks populated by ghosts, strange and ephemeral. And whatever seemed to have happened after the play most recently. "I don't usually let Heart out alone after dark. I've never seen anything specifically around our places, but there's talk on the forums sometimes." He turned back and finished this proclamation with another drink, and this time he leaned forward, wine having loosened any caution towards not saying more. "I'd love to say it's just talk and be able to firmly believe that - ghosts are romantic when you're leaving a ghost light on in the theatre - but they're far less romantic if they're wanting to pull you under and drown you after dark and I don't believe it's all just talk. I might just have an over-active imagination though," he admitted, knowing that it probably sounded insane unless Theodore, like some of the others here seemed to, knew something of the supernatural.