"She's an independent woman," Evan said fondly of Leah. "It's one of the things I love most about her," he added, completely unaware that he'd used the word love. "I'd be more positive about it, if her... last relationship... wasn't so prominent in my mind." He tried to relax himself physically and shrugged. "Whatever happens, I'll deal with it. I'll own it." Because it was his fault. Just like everything else, he thought sadly.
Smiling halfheartedly, he nodded in response to Elliot's reassurance. "I have a lot of others to thank for that, too, though. And I'm sure, eventually, someone would've come up with it." And been able to do it better. Without having whatever kind of attack this was.
When Evan heard the footsteps approaching, he tensed. It was the first time in a long time that he didn't want to see Leah, the first time in a long time that he wished she'd just walk away. In the back of his mind, he knew that he didn't mean that, but he feared exactly what was to come, exactly what she'd say. He could take a lot of emotional punishment at once; he'd always prided himself on that. But losing her... it scared him. A lot.
He saw her face and instantly felt five times worse. She was supposed to be happy, with her daughter. And here she was... definitely not looking happy. He looked down at his hands and tried beyond trying to come up with something to say, some kind of apology. But he didn't know what to say.
Breathing in a deep sigh, he turned his eyes back up to see Leah and Marigold, giving a weak smile to the child when she smiled at him. "Hi there," he spoke softly, carefully avoiding saying her name, just in case Leah hadn't told her yet. "Do you like it here so far?"
His voice lowered then, and he turned to look at Leah. "Hi..." he said, far sadder this time. "How much, uh... how much did she tell you?" he asked.