Commenting on it wasn't really talking about it. James wouldn't discuss it with anyone. His doctor had tried to get him to go into depth about his father, but he never had. He never really went into depth about much of anything, truth be told. He said what he had to say and that was that. Whether or not that could truly be called strength, he wasn't sure. But stoicism certainly came to mind.
James picked up on that little interjection, but he said nothing, storing the incident away for later use, if there was a use for it later. Instead he chose to just focus on the hands upon his back, and the wonders they were doing for his aching muscles. It was when the touch grew more certain, more deep, that it really started to feel good, and the man exhaled a moan as he found the exact right spot, a pesky little knot that he'd had for ages. "Mmm, right there. Harder." Was he thinking about the way that sounded? Not in the least.