It hurts. It hasn't stopped hurting. It won't even when she is through. "Your offer. The flowers."
Her startled, blind rejection.
"I was stupid," she continues. "I might as well have--have stepped on your heart with my Strathconas. Both of them. What kind of woman would do that?" Repeating her question of last night. This time answering it aloud. "A woman who ... wasn't worthy of you. So I thought ... if you realised, if you decided, if you saw that I ... then you would understand it wasn't your fault. It was mine."