The flash of utter shock, the fish gape open-close-open that her mouth did -- it was clear she'd never even considered what Aidan so easily suggested. To her, it had never been a thought, until he uttered it. She mentally scrabbled to catch up to the idea.
Would he even do that? He would. She could see it in his face. He was considering it. Not because he wanted to, but because he wanted to keep her however he could. That did things to her heart that she'd not expected. And could he? That wasn't even the right question. Would he be bitter about it when she wasn't with him? Would Aidan grow to hate her? Would John?
John might well think it was perfectly logical. Or he might try to calmly murder Aidan the next time he had occasion to lay eyes on the man. The vampire. That should be considered, too. For all the quietness of John Preston's caring for her, he was a man and Aidan was not. Logically, she should forget about Aidan and go make her home with the stern Cleric whose eyes seemed just as old as Aidan's. She wondered who had seen more death. She wondered who had been responsible for more death.
Evey leaned back on her hands, fingers scrunching at the grass. There was one thing she didn't doubt, not for a second. Regardless of what part of her she consulted, she loved Aidan. That couldn't be said for John. No matter how much he fit with her now, she had loved Aidan longer and deeper than she'd ever with John.
But that didn't make Aidan the right choice. If there were a choice at all.
"You don't really know me anymore," Evey said carefully, at last. That was the hard truth. She looked something like the woman Aidan loved, and very much like the woman John cared for... but she was neither. She was both. "I'm someone different from what either of you remember. Half the time, I don't even know my own mind. I can't expect you to... to love me."