[ They'll be fine, in a minute. They'll soldier on, because that's what Andy and Rex do. It's just — she needs a moment, to let the cracks show. Behind a closed door. Where nobody except Rex ever has to know. The sound of running water drowns out her unsteady exhale at Rex's stalled reassurance, and the wet curtain of her hair is enough to hide her expression — as if either of those things is as telling as her words were. ]
I'll tell him. When he wakes up.
[ There's that low, rough edge to her voice when she's too emotional and she knows it. ]
no subject
I'll tell him. When he wakes up.
[ There's that low, rough edge to her voice when she's too emotional and she knows it. ]
We can both tell him.
[ Her grip on his wrists loosens. ]
Right, Rex?