She turned, burring her face in his chest, arms wrapped tightly around him as she cried, dismissing the fact she was now smearing her make up across his shirt, too broken heart-ed to care at the moment, and instead taking the comfort he offered her.
She had tried so hard to keep it together, to make sure she was simply there to make him better...but the wine and the dinner and the memory of her mother's fading smile kept replaying in her head until she needed him as much as he needed her.