Noctisardor Bypass Sitting here underneath the bridge

there was no reason not to believe amadeo. no true and lasting peace had been made between she and he; even the infrequent moments of time together were marked by a shifting tension that could take any form at any time.
it's pretty. what kinder thing had anselm ever said? and look how many months it had taken to even muster that, his children half-grown almost! 
"i don't think you're wrong, amadeo." a swallow bobbed her thin throat. "but he's the father of my sons. i feel — obligated to make it work with him, no matter that he — has made it clear he doesn't think the same of me."
some sense of being marred by this admission chafed at heda, and she pulled gently aside from the older man as if not to sully him, in some subconscious gesture. "i — i would like you to come with me. but i think what i need is to be alone, in prayer."
and supplication, for the nuanced sin of she and anselm. 
the smile heda offered did not reach her eyes; she dipped her head and all but fled amadeo now in a flurry of shame.
whatever tiny hope of a future she might have idly nursed fell away to ash. what heda deserved was anselm, his mercurial moods, his borderline loathing, it felt, the yoke of his resentment, and perhaps a life of that with him.