Like that she said, and motioned at him. Well, thought Ford wryly, We've got something in common after all.
Greer could have stopped there, having answered his question, but she didn't. Ford felt a burst of panic at the direction the conversation was turning, but tried his best to keep it off his face. Was it that obvious? He'd been trying so hard. But maybe he couldn't take Greer's assessment as a good barometer for what society in general thought; even if they weren't close, she had a lot more exposure to him than the average person did. He couldn't keep up the act all the time, try as he might, so of course she'd seen him slip here and there. Still — it wasn't great that Greer had seen through him. Was her assumption tentative enough that he could still get things back on track? Was he a good enough liar for that? If he mostly told the truth, maybe he could manage it, he decided.
"It's — it's just — I wasn't planning on getting married now," he sputtered. This was so obvious that it practically went without saying, but in the context of defending himself from her entirely accurate assessment he'd decided to say it anyway. "You know that. I mean, with this house, with my sisters, with — it just didn't seem — you get it," he said, hoping she did. "And this isn't the way I would've wanted it to happen, at all, obviously. I'm not sorry it's her," (this, the one indispensable lie that he needed to slip in to make this story count for something) "— but I'm sorry about just about every other aspect of it. I mean, there's nothing I can do about any of it, but — yeah, I wish — I wish things had happened differently."
Greer could have stopped there, having answered his question, but she didn't. Ford felt a burst of panic at the direction the conversation was turning, but tried his best to keep it off his face. Was it that obvious? He'd been trying so hard. But maybe he couldn't take Greer's assessment as a good barometer for what society in general thought; even if they weren't close, she had a lot more exposure to him than the average person did. He couldn't keep up the act all the time, try as he might, so of course she'd seen him slip here and there. Still — it wasn't great that Greer had seen through him. Was her assumption tentative enough that he could still get things back on track? Was he a good enough liar for that? If he mostly told the truth, maybe he could manage it, he decided.
"It's — it's just — I wasn't planning on getting married now," he sputtered. This was so obvious that it practically went without saying, but in the context of defending himself from her entirely accurate assessment he'd decided to say it anyway. "You know that. I mean, with this house, with my sisters, with — it just didn't seem — you get it," he said, hoping she did. "And this isn't the way I would've wanted it to happen, at all, obviously. I'm not sorry it's her," (this, the one indispensable lie that he needed to slip in to make this story count for something) "— but I'm sorry about just about every other aspect of it. I mean, there's nothing I can do about any of it, but — yeah, I wish — I wish things had happened differently."
Set by Lady!