Stavanger Bay It was all forlorn, if only for a season

Reverie nodded, feeling she could do little else; she wanted to argue, of course, because this scene felt familiar in a way that seemed hopeless. They'd talked as she'd wanted, but it seemed they'd done nothing but hurt one another even further. Nothing was fixed, and Lestan made no promises in that regard. He told her only that he would stay — and once, that might have comforted her. But Reverie didn't fear his absence as much as she had; more than that, she feared that they would make one another miserable, that they would do the same to Blossom as her parents had done to her.
Even if - it takes a long time? Reverie leaned against him even as she questioned. I - I've been trying things on my own for months, Lestan - you know that, don't you? Ever since Swiftcurrent Creek... She sighed. I - I'm tired of being sick - of putting my life on hold for it. Before Bridget came, I was in pain all the time - and even now, I feel so - exhausted. I can't go anywhere, I can't do anything, and I just - I just want one thing to go right -
She cut herself off, aware that she was bordering on hysteria. But you're - you're right, we should... wait. It's - hard for me to think clearly, lately. It has been for awhile, really. It shamed her to admit this so late; she should have told him sooner, she knew, but she hadn't wanted to. Just - will you promise that - if Bridget finds something that works - Reverie caught herself again. When she finds something, we'll talk about this again. And we'll figure out a way to fix things. Please?