For a moment, Stephen seems on the verge of trying to deny it; he finds it so very difficult to admit when he cares for someone.
(Every so often on the verge of sleep, the words hover on the edge of his mind like a half-remembered dream, without context. Everyone who knows and loves you— We’d—)
But with the fortifying wine and the awareness of the girl asleep in the next room and how close they all came, he says, “Probably. It seemed— perhaps not a good idea as such, but at least a manageable one and reasonable enough. I underestimated the danger of a messy amputation, an already-risky procedure. Uncontrollable variables.”
It stings to admit weakness like this; a flaw, a fault, a mistake.
no subject
(Every so often on the verge of sleep, the words hover on the edge of his mind like a half-remembered dream, without context.
Everyone who knows and loves you— We’d—)
But with the fortifying wine and the awareness of the girl asleep in the next room and how close they all came, he says, “Probably. It seemed— perhaps not a good idea as such, but at least a manageable one and reasonable enough. I underestimated the danger of a messy amputation, an already-risky procedure. Uncontrollable variables.”
It stings to admit weakness like this; a flaw, a fault, a mistake.