In one piece. Did she have any reason to think that he wouldn't be? He'd survived over thirty years of life before they'd gotten married, and he was more than capable of handling himself in a foreign city for two days. Maybe she was worried that he'd gone and hanged himself somewhere, or something along those lines, but she wouldn't have had any basis for that sort of thinking. As bad as things were, the thought of actually dying hadn't crossed his mind. He hadn't been the one about to secretly shotgun a potentially dangerous potion.

A potion that she hadn't ended up taking, by the looks of it. As he'd waited for her to say something he'd rested his wand on the table and noticed the vial placed there, still full. It almost looked like it was on display. She'd wanted him to see it, he speculated. She'd put it there in a central place so that if he came back when she was away or asleep he couldn't fail to notice. Did she think that was going to fix things? She probably did. She hadn't been listening during their last fight, and from her perspective this was all still about the existence of the baby. He'd been upset to find her about to drink the magical miscarriage juice — so the way to make up was to not take it. Simple. Logical. Merlin, she didn't understand anything.

How had he gotten here? Some of the specifics may not have been his doing, but he'd still set these things in motion and started down this path. At one point he'd been willing to do a handful of illegal things and risk sneaking up to her bedroom window in the middle of the night to try and make her happy. Why had he thought she was worth all that? How could he have been so mistaken about her?

"Mmm," he mumbled noncommittally. His eyes drifted back to the vial, and for a moment he was silent. He didn't really want to talk about this, or anything, but if he didn't say something, she was going to, he supposed.

"So you're keeping it?" he asked, still not looking at her.