Something in him, an irrationally angry and frustrated part of him, wants to tell her to leave him alone. To just let him be, with his helpless misery.
Duty and ingrained propriety tells him he can't do that.
But he's not even technically a Mountie anymore, is he?
He straightens, a reflex action when being addressed by a superior. Eyebrows lift upward in query, though the mask he wears is strained. There is no smile.