What he’d been expecting anyone to say to that, he wasn’t sure, but – Greengrass’ answer was as comforting as anything could be. Theo exhaled slowly, turning over those words in his head almost in surprise. Wasn’t it him? He’d reacted badly, he knew that – maybe he’d overreacted, even. Maybe he should have just been fine with everything, or at least more sympathetic. He could have been more mature; more forgiving of the situation; less hurt by something that was out of both of their hands.
But he let that thought go because maybe Greengrass had a point, too. Not good at talking about things: that did sound a lot like Cash. In spite of his low spirits, Theo almost had to smile at that – a wry turn came to the corner of his mouth, and a burst of feeling with it, a tenderer ache than the hurt and hopeless anger. He nodded slightly in concession.
And for a heartbeat, he almost felt a little better for it – but at the next question, Theo slumped a little harder against the wall, a muscle tightened in his jaw again. “After the dust settles, and then what?” he echoed, because in truth the fact that Cash had waited so long to tell him about the wedding was the least of his worries now. “That’s his life now.” He was married – and now Theo knew about the vow. Cash was trapped in his marriage and his family and his promises forever, that was final, and there was nothing Theo could do to change it or rescue him from it. Well, except keep his distance: so that the walls Cash lived in didn’t get any more suffocating around him, so he didn’t make things worse.
“And I can’t –” Theo said, desperation clawing at him again. He lifted a hand to rub his temples, which was mostly to momentarily hide the expression on his face. “It’s better if we’re not.” He wasn’t going to risk Cash’s life every time he saw him. And he didn’t think – he wasn’t sure if he could just be his friend, either.
When he looked up, Theo glanced at Greengrass again with an unspoken question newly written on his face. Why, will you? (Cash, he’d called him, and Theo had known that they were friends, but with the way Greengrass had described him he was suddenly certain they were real friends, that they were actually close, close enough to actually talk about true things. And – he hadn’t said he wasn’t speaking to him or anything, so maybe things were still alright between them; and that was good, he was glad Cash still had friends around him – but on the other hand, for some reason Greengrass was hiding out here too.)
But he let that thought go because maybe Greengrass had a point, too. Not good at talking about things: that did sound a lot like Cash. In spite of his low spirits, Theo almost had to smile at that – a wry turn came to the corner of his mouth, and a burst of feeling with it, a tenderer ache than the hurt and hopeless anger. He nodded slightly in concession.
And for a heartbeat, he almost felt a little better for it – but at the next question, Theo slumped a little harder against the wall, a muscle tightened in his jaw again. “After the dust settles, and then what?” he echoed, because in truth the fact that Cash had waited so long to tell him about the wedding was the least of his worries now. “That’s his life now.” He was married – and now Theo knew about the vow. Cash was trapped in his marriage and his family and his promises forever, that was final, and there was nothing Theo could do to change it or rescue him from it. Well, except keep his distance: so that the walls Cash lived in didn’t get any more suffocating around him, so he didn’t make things worse.
“And I can’t –” Theo said, desperation clawing at him again. He lifted a hand to rub his temples, which was mostly to momentarily hide the expression on his face. “It’s better if we’re not.” He wasn’t going to risk Cash’s life every time he saw him. And he didn’t think – he wasn’t sure if he could just be his friend, either.
When he looked up, Theo glanced at Greengrass again with an unspoken question newly written on his face. Why, will you? (Cash, he’d called him, and Theo had known that they were friends, but with the way Greengrass had described him he was suddenly certain they were real friends, that they were actually close, close enough to actually talk about true things. And – he hadn’t said he wasn’t speaking to him or anything, so maybe things were still alright between them; and that was good, he was glad Cash still had friends around him – but on the other hand, for some reason Greengrass was hiding out here too.)
