Swiftcurrent Creek Pick you up, let you down

She closes her eyes as he touches her, taking in a slow breath. It's almost maddening, the way he insists it isn't her fault; it seems everyone believes as much, and she can't stand it. She might have been content, once, to allow herself to be seen as blameless here — smug, even. Now it fills her with shame, recalling the way she'd more or less thrown herself at him each time another wolf dismisses her blame in the matter.
It is my fault, though, She says after a moment, pulling away slightly to meet his eyes as she speaks. Her own are already stinging with the beginnings of tears, a feeling she's grown so tired of that she would not mourn at all if her eyes simply fell out. I came to you — I started it. And I know you haven't been with any of the other women in heat here. The scent would have stuck in his fur, surely; she does not think him a man to hide such a thing anyway. She swallows, breaking eye contact again as she continues. You've been nothing but kind to me, and I — I'm sorry I ruined your life.