It had been moments like these, the small gestures she had once given, that had led Percy on his first foolish trip to her house. As her hand reached up and gently brushed his face Percy realized that. Realized her words. How he would have longed to hear them years ago, longed to know she cared. The years between them stretched in front of him as he remembered accidental hand brushes, dances practiced in class, smiles and gifts that had once pass between them. All the times he had felt there was something more between them. All the hopes he had kept close to his heart until he could support her. Then that fateful day, that fool’s errand when he had learned the actual truth. Percy stiffened under her touch. Feeling the anger and resentment of the past decade, tempered with the truth that she was in mourning, that she missed her husband, that her words were selfish.

With a swallow Percy stepped backward, letting her hand go, his jaw tightening in frustration - no anger - not even disappointment, he’d long since dealt with that particular feeling. This wasn’t right. She didn’t need him. She never had. Everything he had once thought to be true about her had been a lie. Why would it be different now? That was the thing. It wasn’t different. He couldn’t deny he still had feelings for her, but she never had. He would not be her last resort, would not allow this to become another fool’s errand. He had known it was a bad idea to write her back these past few weeks, to come here today. Yet he had. What a fool he truly was.