Tyb was too used to Elsie’s expressions – and had witnessed her sobbing on a few too many occasions before – to miss the warning signs of capital-E Emotion in her eyes. His mouth twisted slightly, worried: he didn’t know what had brought it on today, but there were plenty of options. Owen’s death; tiredness; frustration; Bentley on a rampage; the horrors of pregnancy. (Maybe they should have talked about her day first.)
And maybe his hadn’t been so very rough after all? But Elsie had asked, so he might as well get his tidbit of news out of the way before he figured out how she was in turn. Maybe by saying it aloud he’d even figure out how he was. “Well, yes – no, I mean –” Tyb tried, shooting her a sheepish look as he shifted up into a sitting position, bundling Ben with him again. “You’re going to laugh,” he predicted, a warning for how ridiculous it sounded even to him, like the kind of joke he might try and crack on an ordinary day, “but they asked me.”
And maybe his hadn’t been so very rough after all? But Elsie had asked, so he might as well get his tidbit of news out of the way before he figured out how she was in turn. Maybe by saying it aloud he’d even figure out how he was. “Well, yes – no, I mean –” Tyb tried, shooting her a sheepish look as he shifted up into a sitting position, bundling Ben with him again. “You’re going to laugh,” he predicted, a warning for how ridiculous it sounded even to him, like the kind of joke he might try and crack on an ordinary day, “but they asked me.”
