He didn't want the ring, and he didn't want to put off the decision — but he did want her out of the parlor, so it seemed the most expeditious course of action to agree. He nodded and said nothing, then pushed himself up off the floor and moved to get the floo back online. Why ask him to wait and make the decision after he remembered her? Why keep the ring at all? The only reason was if he still wanted to be reminded of the past — if he still had hope for reconciliation in the future. And he couldn't reconcile with her, he absolutely could not — not if she had been the cause of the strife he'd been through in 1890. It didn't matter if she hadn't known, or hadn't intended it; the problem was that being with her had caused that once, and being with her again would open up him up to it again. And he couldn't survive it a second time.

"I'll meet you at the modiste tomorrow," he said, moving past her towards the parlor door. He left the mementos on the table, along with his scattered notes — he just wanted to end the conversation as quickly as possible.

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