The wait was anxiety enducing, it always was. Hugh tried to exude confidence, but he definitely felt his share of anxiety, and nothing about this particular event had made it better. Trying to explain that you’d been caught up in a murder trial always had the possibility that people would look at you differently, and so when Theodore spoke, Hugh found himself nearly holding his breath, but as he continued, something relaxed. It was understanding, and not just choosing not to think poorly of him, but beyond that.
Isolation had felt like the only way to deal with it, and it wasn’t just fear of how others would look at him. That had been a lot and it was still a challenge but as many people were accepting as not. But he’d fucked up badly. Ambition had made him vulnerable to being used for... what he wasn’t certain sometimes. The why of what he’d been asked to do didn’t always make sense. That the drugs had likely contributed that night he couldn’t deny. His intent couldn’t undo the impact of his actions. And if he was so untrustworthy ...? And Theodore seemed to get that and it felt like relief really.
Hugh realized his eyes were moist and he tilted the bourbon back again and chased that motion with a quick nod. “I want to think you’re right,” he offered a small smile to Theodore “I know I’ll be more careful now. But I figured you should know, rather than stumble across it later. And with Elaine...” he moistened his lips and now looked back directly. “I wanted to be honest I guess. I’m trying to be more honest with people.” Or at least with anyone he was interested in any kind of relationship with.