[“Later.” Bizarre, how that’s the word that gets her—to stifle it, that is. He’s not offering to stay now, in this heavy and hellish moment, who should be listening to whom be damned. He can listen; just not now.

[It feels like a consolation. A compromise. Aubrey can handle that.

[She wipes her eyes with a fist.]

Sure. Later.

[Back to watching the ground, then. Aubrey reaches for the door, and opens it for him.]