Ben let her take his hand, but as she spoke he had to resist the urge to fidget with his fingers or pull his hand back again. It was uncomfortable for him to hear himself described as emotional, though he didn't doubt the truth of her words. He'd been drunk enough to forget at least one large chunk of the night, so when it came to how he'd acted then he'd just have to take her word for it. On the other hand, though, this was a dizzying revelation. He'd started off the conversation planning to tell her everything he could about their history together, filling in the gaps to where she didn't remember. How had it gone from that to we hate each other and I'm not good enough for you in such a short time, and somehow still ended up with them — at least partially — reconciled?

It couldn't have done. Which meant either they hadn't talked through their whole past, or... he'd lied to her about some or all of it. And now he didn't remember what he'd told her.

This was too much for him to think through this early in the morning.

"Yeah, sure," he agreed, shifting his eyes away from her and back down towards his pillow.

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