She said I know and Ezra said nothing, but he wondered how much she did. They had known each other well and loved each other well; maybe she still knew enough about his character to hear what he meant to say instead of what he really said, in situations like this.

But she had left him. One conversation, where she hadn't heard what he'd said or what he'd meant, and she was gone. Not a single letter afterwards; no chance to explain himself, to claw his way back to her good graces. How well could she have known him, really, if in five minutes he was no longer granted the benefit of any doubt? How well could she have loved him?

(Did he love his tile game, or did it only look that way to people who didn't understand? Maybe there was blame enough for both of them).

He finished off his drink and abandoned it on a table. Withdrawing his wand, Ezra conjured a cup and charmed it full of water, then handed it to Rosalie.

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