Dammit. Dammit, dammit, dammit. He's trying so hard, and she wants so badly to believe him, and she just can't. She drops her head in her hands as she feels the tears start to fall. She can't do this. She can't keep taking advantage of him like this, using him for her own comfort and lying about it, if only by omission. She can't take him being so damned nice to her without knowing how little she deserves it.

"What," she starts, but her voice is so weak and congested that she swallows and tries again.

"What if it wasn't a symptom. What if... if it was my doing."