Given how unconventional the situation was and how sparingly he had explained it, Ford was a bit surprised how well Jemima had parsed it all (pleasantly surprised yet again; maybe he wouldn't have to fill in many details at all). He nodded eagerly. "Right," he agreed. "She wasn't expecting, and I wasn't intending."

They had never really discussed how things would end, so Ford didn't know what the plan would have been, but he was quite certain they'd been on the same page about not really intending to marry each other. Perhaps they would have staged some sort of falling out — or maybe he could even have gone to ask for her hand but then botched the ask so badly that her father would have had to refuse. Then they could have continued on, her towards academic spinsterhood and him continuing on as a bachelor, with the general consensus in society that they were thwarted lovers. That might have suited them.

Ford shifted his weight from one palm to the other, still leaning back on his hands. He had the sense that the conversation was over, or at least that he didn't have anything else he needed to contribute towards it if she didn't have further questions... but it also seemed a bit awkward to go back to kissing Jemima when he was still half-thinking about Ida Chang. "So..."

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