Stone Circle Fallen like hundred year old trees missed your body

And it was true. It wasn't her fault, and he says it repeatedly; once, as he tucks her into his chest and murmurs it solemnly; again, when her chin is pulled upward so that she can see him say it; and a third, when a kiss is pressed to the space between her fluttering eyes.
A husband, who abandons the woman sowed with his own seed. A pack who watches, gawking, while she struggles. And that very same husband, returning only to tear the last shreds of their — love — apart. He wasn't no husband, he says, and it comes with a sense of certainty, finality; he wasn't. Not for her, at least.
And he sits with that before his lips purse and he adds; You've been through a lot, Reverie. It's okay to let yourself feel it. Feel the, uh, the grief. And it's also okay to start over.
Start over. He thinks of little Matteo, of Iseul; where they could possibly be now. How far he was from them. Starting over.
This is, um, maybe I'm outta my mind, but, and even as he says it, he does not let her go; not for a second is their touch not maintained, gentle as ever. what if we made our own home? You don't gotta keep runnin', and Blossom could have somewhere to, to return to. he breathes a sigh from his nostrils, head shaking. A do-over. Of everything. Somewhere where you don't gotta hold onto that pain no more.