Okay. [ There's a brief squeeze of her hand. ] Whatever you say, sweetheart.
[ It's not like he can argue when he has flowers on his head. He could always try, is tempted to if only because the longer he stops to think about this place the more anxious and uneasy he feels, but half that anxiety is knowing how long she'd been here alone. And given how little relaxing she ever did back where they both needed to be, he can't bring himself to try making her stop. ]