"It's not that I didn't want to see you. I couldn't face you." She mumbled. She'd thrown herself into the work. Like she had with ever disaster they'd had so far. Not that they'd had many.
She closed her eyes. Hadn't she known? Hadn't it been deep down somewhere that it wouldn't last? That she wasn't any different from any of the other women he dated? She forced her breathing to remain steady, though, either because of her lack of sleep, or because it took all her will power, she couldn't keep the few bits of moisture from trailing from beneath her eyelashes.
A million questions, or a million versions of the same question came at her all at once. But instead of asking that question she whispered. "What do you want to do about it?" She didn't trust her voice not to crack if she went above a whisper.