Wheeling Gull Isle Floating on the water to show me your softer side

She smiled helplessly, preparing to tell him all about the strange things she'd been through, but then — but then —
Her smile died. He... Her eyes found Blossom, and her throat ached. She leaned down to murmur in the girl's ear, Hey, why don't you sit with Boone for a minute? When she drew herself up she felt a little colder, watching her daughter run to sit by the man they now traveled with. She knew that Everett would see it too, their childhood all over again, whispers behind closed doors and sad looks they could never quite understand, pretending not to catch their mother crying at night when she thought they were all asleep, pretending not to see the way their father never looked at her when he spoke to her.
But she understood now, in her own way. She knew what it was to clutch a broken heart and swear to herself that her daughter would never know that love could feel this way; she knew what it was to keep her eyes carefully off of her husband in fear that Blossom would see the bitterness there and embrace it for her own future. She understood, most of all, how hard it was to let go of the kind of love that could only burn, even as she tried to shield her daughter from the smoke and ash.
We... had another fight. Weeks ago. He wanted to leave - temporarily, but I told him that I wouldn't wait for him if he did. That I would come here instead, Her ears folded to her skull somewhere during the retelling of what had started it all. So he said he would take me here, and that was what we did. We got to the land bridge, and then... something happened. I still don't understand - there were these strange creatures, I think they took us somewhere else. There were others, too. And they... they healed me. She gestured to the strange, precise scars at her abdomen, the only thing she had to show for the experience.
Reverie bit her lip. I know it sounds crazy. We were there for weeks. We... Lestan and I, we decided to separate for a little while. Almost two weeks, I think, Two weeks of mourning, two weeks of putting on a tired smile for Blossom with each rising of the sun and crumbling each time it set again. Then he came back, and... I don't know. I guess things were okay. Peaceful. But then it - it happened again, we all fell asleep, and Blossom and I woke up without him. Here, but further up the coast.
Maybe he left us before we woke up. Or maybe he ended up somewhere else, She cast a glance back at Blossom, holding back the threat of tears. I don't really know. I don't know if we'll ever see him again.