Every word he said cut through her. Even the bit about poor Bobby Fischer, snapping. Oh, she wasn't deluded enough to think he was some great person, she knew better. But it could have just as easily been Freddie. And then he went on, asking her questions that she knew to expect but still somehow hadn't prepared answers for. And maybe that was okay. This wasn't some press conference, with answers and pre-approved topics written out for them. This was about them. Honesty and feelings and being truthful. And maybe if they'd done this a long time ago, they wouldn't even be in this mess.
"Freddie..." Florence sighed, willing herself to look up at him. And it was hard. Really hard, because looking at him meant she had to face the truth. A part of her absolutely did still love him. It'd be a lie to say she didn't. But she'd been miserable those last few months. Maybe even the last year. Oh, she was proud of him, sure. But no matter what he thought, the fame hadn't meant that much to her. It was why she was so willing to walk away from the game. It hadn't meant to her what it had to Freddie, or even to Anatoly. What she wanted was to be put first in someone's life, and so far? Neither had bothered.
"It isn't what you think." She'd offered to talk this out with him, and she'd meant it. It was just one of the hardest conversations she was ever going to have, was all. "I did love you, you know that. And a part of me, it never stopped. But to be honest? You treated me terribly those last few months. Hell, you treated everyone terribly." The way he'd acted with the press, oh, it hadn't helped. And he really had pressed his luck with the Russians, but she could at least understand that. But her?
She swallowed hard, unsure of herself more then than ever. Her actions were laid out there for them both to deal with. "I was angry, I was hurt... He isn't better than you, Freddie. It isn't about that. Hell, it was a mistake to begin with." What had she been thinking? Not only taking off with a married man, but one who was key in a political struggle. Giving asylum to a man the Russians wanted back, and badly. Not her brightest move. But he'd been caring and considerate and he'd been the most comfort she'd had in a while. Something Freddie hadn't done since...she couldn't even remember anymore.
"We weren't what we used to be. You know that. You have to know that." Her eyes closed painfully for a moment, but she forced herself to meet his eyes. He deserved that much at least. "I really am sorry. You can't even know how much. I wish I could do it all over but I can't."