Finally, finally, Evander looked at her. Not at her face, but at her. It reminded her of his look at her as her family had greeted her from the shipwreck, it carried the weight of his worry, his protectiveness. When his eyes met her's she saw the same look in his eye as she had that day standing next to the dock as the wind whipped around her. It cut through the folds of her anger and grief and left her feeling exhausted and heartbroken. His anger was his worry, she reminded herself at that gaze even as his eyes left her's and focused on her lap where her hands folded gently in front of those two secret areas, the one for him and the one for their child.

Had she not known her husband, had not been reminded of his deep worry for her, she might have scoffed at those words. But instead she found herself admitting in a small voice to him, "I wasn't looking for trouble." But how to tell him the rest? How to admit to him the very thing she didn't wish to put into words. She longed to stand up and go to him, to touch him, but he needed a moment - a moment without them throwing furious words back and forth at each other before she tried to touch him.