His boot connects hard with one of the broken pieces of the table, sending it flying into the wall away from Wynonna. It leaves a big divot and he curses under his breath. The entire place isn't cleaned up and in perfect shape, but he's making it his.

Or he was.

That is going to take some work to fix.

"You don't know that." His voice is low, gravelly. Shoving his hand into the pockets of the long coat he wear, turning to face her though he doesn't move closer. He doesn't trust himself. "We can't know that. We can hope, and you can even pray, but we can't know that. I just know..." His voice cracks and he hates it! Hates the weakness it shows to this woman, of all people. "I know what is happening if we're wrong."

He wants her back. Desperately. Not at that price though.