Her eyes looked watery. Noble swallowed, keeping down the words that could have come up. Because even if the letter had been a bad call — a cowardly call, and he knew it — this was, perhaps, the fundamental difference between them. Rosalie thought that the bad calls that Noble made were about her, and instead they were — about the fucked up brain that he couldn't get to cooperate.

Ignoring the flush on his face, he turned to find a drink.