There was a dissonance between what she was saying and what she was doing — or at least in Ben's perception of what she was saying and doing. She had put her hand on his arm again, which was a comforting gesture, and then Elliott had crawled in to his lap, which made his chest tighten and his mind go fuzzy in a way that made it hard to hold on to anything else. But before Elliott had sat in his lap, he'd had plenty of reservations about what she was saying. This seemed wrong, and it didn't fit the picture he'd painted in his head of what their marriage was like. Granted, he didn't know much about it — he had never, to the best of his knowledge, met the man (Aaron? was that what she'd said his name was?) and he didn't really know her, either, aside from her letters. What he knew, though, was that she had told him the truth about her pregnancy before they married, and he had married her anyway. That was about as far removed from the circumstances under which Ben's marriage had started that he couldn't help but be stricken by it.

Sometimes he wondered what he would have done, if Melody had tried to get him to elope with her without having used the potion on him first. He had never thought marriage was a good idea, for him but especially for them, but if the circumstances had been such that it really was the only good option left available to them — if he had been as convinced of its necessity as she had been that night — would he have walked into it, with eyes wide open? He didn't know — and would never know, because he'd never gotten the chance to make that decision and it wasn't something she could give back to him. But a part of him thought maybe he would have, if he'd really thought it was the best way to make her happy (he still did not think being married to him was the best way to make her happy, but that was besides the point), and maybe if he had been forced to make that choice and reckon with himself on day one, instead of only after a year of dragging his feet, maybe they'd be okay by now. Having all the information laid out in front of you and still making the tough decision counted for a lot, in his book. The Fisks may not have been desperately in love — her answer said that much clearly, even if she had not said it explicitly — but at least they had that foundation.

Ben wasn't worth jeopardizing that foundation for. She didn't know that, maybe, which was why she was saying she wanted him involved and putting her hand on his arm like that, but he just wasn't. He might have charmed her by coming in and reading picture books with Elliott and talking about brooms with him, but Elliott already had a father, and just by being here without him knowing about it, Ben was putting Elliott's relationship with his father at risk. That was unacceptable, and he thought she must have seen that. If she was upset with her husband for whatever reason, though, maybe she was purposefully not seeing it. He'd done that more than his fair share, with Melody, so he knew what that could look like, and what it could do to a person.

He glanced at her for a moment, wanting to speak but unsure what to say. He wasn't worried about her husband, not directly. He didn't even know the man, so it wasn't a concern for his feelings that was keeping Ben from embracing this plan quite so enthusiastically as she might have hoped. He was concerned about Elliott, ultimately, and a little about her, too. Concerned that a secret like this could change the foundation they were built on, give a different atmosphere to the household, or maybe even change the relationship between either of them and Elliott. But he didn't know how to say any of that, so instead he flashed her a quick smile — a little superficial, though maybe she wouldn't notice — and reached across Elliott to gently squeeze her hand. The message: okay, it's alright, we don't have to get in to those things right now.

"Want to read this one?" he asked Elliott, turning his attention back to his son. "Let's go back and start at the beginning, hm? Can you turn this page over?"