Whitefish River and here we go, life's waiting to begin

He realizes his mistake as Evergreen speaks, and his heart sinks slowly into his stomach. In all his panicked worrying, he'd forgotten to consider that his mate knows his own wants and feelings better than anyone — that he hadn't just agreed to their relationship out of the kindness of his heart. This is what Evergreen wants, normal or not. It's easier to forget than it should be; Winterbourne has never been given much by others, and what he can remember receiving was given out of generosity, maybe a hint of pity. But he has to remember that this relationship isn't a thing that was given to him; it's an agreement between them, a mutual effort, a bond built on trust. He can't help but wonder why it's so hard for him to do that right now — to trust.
That... isn't what I meant. You've always made me happy and comfortable. I'm sorry, I — His own voice breaks, and he fights the urge to reach out again to comfort Evergreen. I got overwhelmed and I thought — I thought maybe Ira could make you happier — and you wouldn't have to be so hurt — I'm sorry. I love you, and I trust you. So if you're saying I make you happy... I'll trust that.