[What's happening is something she wouldn't have to explain to Ben, because he would just know. The dictates of what the two of them are and are not, the way she pushes and errs and the way he gently course-corrects. Anya does not have this intrinsic understanding.]
[This isn't Anya's fault. Neither, Abigail reminds herself, is Ben's absence. Not his fault. No one's fault.]
[She pushes her hair behind her ear and shrugs, tight-lipped.]
What's happening is . . . me not lying to you. Telling you what I'm doing and if I'm thinking about doing things that aren't r-- [No absolutes, not even no. She presses her eyes shut and opens them again.] That are not adaptive. If I'm losing time or feeling like I'm somewhere else.
And, and I guess if you're doing what Ben usually does, then you don't lie to me either.
private
[This isn't Anya's fault. Neither, Abigail reminds herself, is Ben's absence. Not his fault. No one's fault.]
[She pushes her hair behind her ear and shrugs, tight-lipped.]
What's happening is . . . me not lying to you. Telling you what I'm doing and if I'm thinking about doing things that aren't r-- [No absolutes, not even no. She presses her eyes shut and opens them again.] That are not adaptive. If I'm losing time or feeling like I'm somewhere else.
And, and I guess if you're doing what Ben usually does, then you don't lie to me either.