His sentence had her waver on her path, and she came to a stop, turning to snake her other arm around him. She wanted to agree so fervently that it had brought her to a real, physical stop — she just wanted to be on the other side, with enough distance that she could look at this objectively, and pick out all the things she would have done differently. "I want to feel like myself," she said, although she wasn't sure where it had come from. Normally she felt most like herself when she was with him, but tonight it was like she was on a raft trying to get to shore and seeing him had overturned it, and now she was — in Ottery when she should not have been, wanting desperately to fix things when it felt like for the last month she'd just been fucking them up.

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