“Yes. It would,” she told him. “There would be nothing wrong if you dealt with acclimating yourself first.” He’d told her he would be there for her, and she knew he would be. But she couldn’t burden him with this. Not with her death, and the after-effects of returning to life. Not when he was in a similar situation, dealing with the same displacement and news of their future. It was bad enough she’d broken the news of her death to him so poorly.
Her smile was crooked, and fond. “But I appreciate that you are so stubbornly refusing to go anywhere.”
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