"Yeah," he said. And he deserved that, he thought.
The truth was that it hurt so very much, her being so close and yet being so far. His love for her was so powerful. That was what love was, he surmised, not good or bad but powerful. Powerful enough to be real good but also enough to destroy a person.
And maybe he'd considered how much he'd effected her, sharing his truth, but it'd cost him so much of his own comfort to share it that his head and chest were swamped with the thick trudge of his own emotional muck.
And maybe it hurt just a little that he was being dismissed. But what else could she do? She was hurting just as much, he supposed.
"Here," he almost whispered.
He shoved past any pain in his back or elsewhere to do the gentlemanly thing and open the top door for her. It was getting harder to hold back any emotion trickling through and the red rims around his eyes had already belied that he was trying.