When did she lose sight of all the possibilities, he'd asked.
“About the time you got shot.”
… had she really just said that? Honestly admitted that it was that which had rocked things, that which had her doubting whether the possibilities were as flexible as they needed to be? Well, no, not really, because it wasn't that which she was admitting so much as that thinking she'd lost Nathan had sapped her of something she couldn't quite grasp enough of the nature of to figure out what was now missing, but she definitely wasn't about to admit that and so running with the other option was, if not optimal, then at least passable. Because it was sort-of true – true enough to serve, because when had she ever been entirely honest with him? - in that the Gaheris incident made it increasingly difficult to hold out hope that people were doing anything much more complicated than act out the same roles all over again.
Her gaze dropped to her coffee, and she stirred it sulkily, nudging the pile of bills back towards him with her free hand as if insulted by the gesture, unimpressed with herself for letting the words come unguarded.