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"Oh, good! I'm glad to hear that I helped. I know," he stepped a little closer so Hayli wouldn't hear, "what it's like to have a sick partner. How hard it is to see them going through something like that, how you'd give everything just to see them get better. I know how it feels to be alone in that struggle, and I didn't want you to have to feel that yourself."
There he was, thinking about her again. It'd been so many years since he'd lost her. He didn't like to think about what had happened, so why was he talking about it? He glanced at the floor, a muscle working in his jaw, and tried to push the thoughts of her out of his mind. It didn't work, of course. He remembered it all, as if she'd passed just the day before. The crow's feet around her eyes from laughter, the smell of her coconut conditioner, the way she'd sang his name. Her favorite pair of overalls, which she'd embroidered with little sunflowers. The smile she'd given Hayli when seeing her for the very first time. The night she'd told him she was sick. He'd known she'd been suffering, that something had been off, but he hadn't known what. When she'd told him her disorder had relapsed, crying, he'd hugged her tightly and said he'd help her get through it.
She hadn't.
She'd started to hide it from him, more so than ever before. He didn't know how to help her. Elsie hadn't been around at that point, and psychiatrists in Anvillea were rare. Eventually, the years of her disorder had caught up to her. One day in winter, he'd walked into the kitchen, and she'd been gone. Cardiac arrest caused by an electrolyte imbalance. That was her official cause of death. To him, though, it'd been his fault. Maybe if he'd loved her harder, maybe if he'd told her more often, maybe if he'd done just a little more research. Maybe she'd have been okay. Maybe she'd have gotten to see her daughter grow up.
He lifted his head to look at Rin and tried for a smile. "Well, I suppose I should leave you be, now, shouldn't I? He'll come back eventually. He will."
——
"You don't think?" Honey wailed, flailing for a moment. His hand almost whacked Ari in the cheek, and he kissed him as an apology. Then, in as close a tone as he could get to an actor performing a soliloquy in a play, he crowed, "Oh, how cruel you are, sir! So rude to your darling Honey, who procured for you the excellent bounty of, uh, one breakfast sandwich. Hm. You know, maybe you're right after all. Well, that only means that I must do better in the future! And bring you, um, a trove of gold? I don't know. A dragon? Jewels of the finest sort, luxurious furs, and, y'know. Stuff."