Sawtooth Spire But time makes you bolder

She wanted to be angry with him for this moment—for seeking comfort from her after everything that had happened between them. She could never erase the way she felt about him no matter how hard she tried or how angry she was with him. She was supposed to be moving on and finding some other kind of meaning in her life, but her past always seemed to pull her back like she was missing something vital that would keep her from ever being truly happy. None of that mattered, though, not now. Her heart broke for him. And when he placed his head against her shoulder, she settled her own on top. 

She wouldn't refute his first statement; she wouldn't offer fake words of sympathy against his realization because that just wasn't her. His hurt still stung even if it wasn't all his fault and she wasn't yet in a position to forgive all of that yet; there was still too much emotional baggage. But she had loved him long before it morphed into something more, and she could hardly stand to see him this way. She smelled the salt of his tears and it threatened to bring forth her own. 

Stop it, she told him, soft but firm, when he spoke again. You do not deserve this, no matter what you have done in your past, she continued. There was no way she would let him believe that. He had made mistakes, sure, but he wasn't evil and he certainly didn't deserve to have his child taken from him. She gently and affectionately nuzzled him, allowing him to shed as many tears as he needed; she understood his reason for them—his heartache, his guilt. She had felt it all herself.