"I —" Alfred began, but stopped. The weight of what she'd said had impressed upon him an immediate desire to reply, but he couldn't finish. He'd been about to say he wouldn't have let it happen, but what choice would he have had if things had gone poorly on the night of the fourteenth? He wasn't a healer, he was a sailor. If she'd been attacked the most he could have done would have been would be to pull her body out of the water so her family had something to bury.
But his immediate thought of I wouldn't let that happen wasn't actually to do with saving Jo from any danger, he realized; it was about not letting her daughter be alone. He'd wanted to say that if something had happened to Jo then he and Zelda would have taken Ilona in without a second thought, and would have taken care of her, but — he ought not to speak for Zelda on this subject, not when the last words they'd exchanged in regards to it were you're not Ilona's father and you are not to parent her. It was a thing Alfred still wasn't sure he entirely understood, but he'd agreed to it.
I hate this, he might have said. I hate that we ended up like this. But if he said it he'd have to explain what he meant, and it would open up the conversation about Ilona that he wasn't sure he was allowed to have. And it was pointless, anyway, because he knew that Jo would say she didn't need him to do that. She had made no effort at all to include him in Ilona's life; whatever support network she was crafting for her daughter, it did not include him.
"I'm sorry I asked you to stay," he said, feeling deeply miserable, but looking at his boots so that she might not read it so easily on his face. "You, uhm, want a cup of tea? There's a booth selling them. I could go buy us a pair."
But his immediate thought of I wouldn't let that happen wasn't actually to do with saving Jo from any danger, he realized; it was about not letting her daughter be alone. He'd wanted to say that if something had happened to Jo then he and Zelda would have taken Ilona in without a second thought, and would have taken care of her, but — he ought not to speak for Zelda on this subject, not when the last words they'd exchanged in regards to it were you're not Ilona's father and you are not to parent her. It was a thing Alfred still wasn't sure he entirely understood, but he'd agreed to it.
I hate this, he might have said. I hate that we ended up like this. But if he said it he'd have to explain what he meant, and it would open up the conversation about Ilona that he wasn't sure he was allowed to have. And it was pointless, anyway, because he knew that Jo would say she didn't need him to do that. She had made no effort at all to include him in Ilona's life; whatever support network she was crafting for her daughter, it did not include him.
"I'm sorry I asked you to stay," he said, feeling deeply miserable, but looking at his boots so that she might not read it so easily on his face. "You, uhm, want a cup of tea? There's a booth selling them. I could go buy us a pair."