Mary had known that a conversation about their situation was coming, as much as she’d dreaded it. She’d just hoped it would take a little longer. There was a comfort in having Johnny near, even if it wasn’t in the same way that she’d had in her time. And even if he wasn’t exactly the same guy that he would have been in thirty-some years if things hadn’t gone completely off the rails.
In many ways, she preferred this version of Johnny. There were no secrets between them. It was freeing, and it made it hard to carry too much anger about the secret that had been kept by the Johnny of her time.
She was close enough to hear the muttering, though it just muddled things up more. He didn’t want her to be sorry, but he was frustrated with how screwed up the situation was. She supposed she could see that. She was frustrated too-for both their sakes.
“I know,” she murmured, as much to herself as to him.
She took a few steps away, moving to grab her glass and maybe just to give him a little bit more space. Whatever needed to be said, space seemed like probably the best thing right now.