If Stephen were better at this, he might know how to navigate this sort of conversation more elegantly: should he pause what he’s doing, and reach out to hold her hand, although those occasions are so few and far between? Do people hug at times like this? He’s not a hugger.

Then again, if he were worse, he might have avoided saying it entirely, would have tried to gloss over what had happened and never even address anything of import. Except that this matters — Stephen has been learning to accept that it matters — and, so, he tries.

“Murphy’s Law. Never tempt it. Life can always find some new, unique, bizarre way of fucking things up.” Her eyes are misty and that makes him blink, himself, darting his gaze back down to the tabletop in front of them.

Cosima’s technically his boss now, but oddly, that seems to draw the cord tighter rather than set her aside at an aloof distance. He has always bonded best with the people he works closely with: the excuse to see each other day in and day out, to delegate and trust one another’s competence, particularly when you carry that shared language and humour.

Tony had been that, for him, too.

So, clearing his throat again:

“Also. So that it’s said. You’re gonna do great.”