Firefly Glen yomblod

"i don't regret you, anselm," skaigona exhaled, and it was the truth, trembling in the set of her mouth, in the way her arms stood empty. yes! she wished that there had been more kindness in the beginning, that he had — loved her. that he had understood what she needed from him; that he had not resented her.
but that fire in his goldcoin eyes had burned more in her than shame.
even now he could not give more than apology, but skaigona refused to relinquish anselm without him understanding that only he held himself in such dire esteem. "if i hadn't met you, we wouldn't have gideon. we wouldn't have ezra. and i don't regret them either. they've made me so happy." voice cracked again, the side of a sunlit glacier; the concept she would never hold either of them again tortured her, and her sobs were weakened, muted sounds that she tried to drive down, back down into herself.
i only loved twice in my entire life.
and anselm had been the second, despite the fact he could not bear to hear it, despite the fact that skaigona would not press this unwanted thing upon him, not at the end.
"i won't let you think this is your fault. it's no one's fault. don't — don't go back to them carrying guilt that isn't yours to take," she begged softly.
wasn't anselm's own truth in the tears which slid down his face?
magdalene; she longed to wipe them away, to kiss his forehead in chaste farewell, but as if vines had grown up from the earth, skaigona stood rooted in helpless agony.