Don Juan offered a slight smile and turned his gaze down to his glass of wine. It was a comfort that Dean would be here the rest of the month, however much Don Juan aspired to be the kind of person who didn't always need a support network standing by to handle his various crises. He almost said something to the effect of I'll let you know if she ever writes back, but held back. Would he? Was it a good idea to keep Dean updated on anything that might develop in that area? Don Juan was newly cautious of letting him get too invested in something that might never happen. Partly this was kindness, to prevent Dean's hopes from being unnecessarily dashed, but partly it was self-preservation. If Dean suffered a weighty disappointment, maybe it would make him sit back and take stock of all the things he was sacrificing to be with Don Juan — but really take stock, not just brush them under the rug of romanticism.

"Tell me about your trip," he suggested instead. He picked up his wine glass and turned his attention towards the charcuterie, determined to move the conversation on to safer ground.

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