Ford was now more convinced than ever that it was precisely what he was thinking, but he wasn't sure what to do with that information. He couldn't press; she'd see through him and shut down, and then maybe abandon him entirely and he'd be left alone on the patio with a cigarette. Moving on didn't seem right either. Partly because he wanted the information, but also in part because this facet of conversation didn't seem finished yet. If he were approaching this conversation just as a friend, this would have been an apt moment for a gentle nudge — or less than a nudge, really. Just an indication that a door was open, if she wanted it. Ford took a beat to consider whether anything had changed that would impact the way he responded, and eventually concluded it had not. They were just friends, and he ought to do his best to act like a friend if he wanted to remain friends when he came down on the other side of... whatever was happening. (He had given up on the idea that she had anything to do with the cause of his current predicament; her actions certainly didn't indicate any interest. If she was intentionally misleading him somehow, manipulating him through the way that she reacted to things or how she spoke... well, fine, she was doing a grand job of it and he wasn't going to try and outwit her).

"I'm sure it's not dumb," he said gently.

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