Ford nodded as Tycho described how he'd been feeling — I know, me too — up until the word doubt. Doubt? The word might as well have been spoken in Hindi; Ford couldn't make sense of it. Doubt what? Could Tycho have really, actually thought it was possible that Ford was no longer in love with him? Preposterous. Ford may have mentioned it a second ago in his list of points Ty might have been trying to prove, but only because he was spiraling and had to say something. Tycho should have already known — but then, from Ford's perspective, Tycho should have already known everything that would have merited showing up here unannounced to investigate, which was part of the reason he'd been angry with his sudden appearance.
"Losing you changed everything," he said, tone heavy with disbelief — not over the words, but over feeling he had to say them at all. Doubt! He hadn't been married that long; how could Tycho have grown so unfamiliar with him? "Like my life used to be made with gold, and even the tarnished bits were still good deep down. But now even the brightest moments are only gilded. Do you know — did you know I had to stop reading poetry?" he pressed. "Most of it leaves me miserable because it makes me think of you, and the ones that don't just read flat and lifeless. There used to be poems that talked about beauty, or hope, or joy, and now there aren't — there are poems that articulate the absence of you, and there's noise, and there's nothing else. And I —" His breath hitched and he paused to inhale before continuing. "I can't even bring myself to regret it, all the hurt, because it still seems worth it. I wouldn't have traded an hour with you to feel better now. And every notion I've ever had about what sort of husband I'd want to be is nothing compared to how much I miss you — which is why you can't be here," he concluded. He was still hot all over but had crossed his arms over his chest now as though he were cold. "Why you have to go home. If you stay I'm going to kiss you, and it'll make everything worse, but I'd do it anyway because even if it killed me it would still feel worth it. Do you understand?"
"Losing you changed everything," he said, tone heavy with disbelief — not over the words, but over feeling he had to say them at all. Doubt! He hadn't been married that long; how could Tycho have grown so unfamiliar with him? "Like my life used to be made with gold, and even the tarnished bits were still good deep down. But now even the brightest moments are only gilded. Do you know — did you know I had to stop reading poetry?" he pressed. "Most of it leaves me miserable because it makes me think of you, and the ones that don't just read flat and lifeless. There used to be poems that talked about beauty, or hope, or joy, and now there aren't — there are poems that articulate the absence of you, and there's noise, and there's nothing else. And I —" His breath hitched and he paused to inhale before continuing. "I can't even bring myself to regret it, all the hurt, because it still seems worth it. I wouldn't have traded an hour with you to feel better now. And every notion I've ever had about what sort of husband I'd want to be is nothing compared to how much I miss you — which is why you can't be here," he concluded. He was still hot all over but had crossed his arms over his chest now as though he were cold. "Why you have to go home. If you stay I'm going to kiss you, and it'll make everything worse, but I'd do it anyway because even if it killed me it would still feel worth it. Do you understand?"
Set by Lady!