It's his turn to be on this side of the conversation, to clutch at every maybe he can find--
And they choke him.
He can't look at maybe. Not now. Because false hope, when you know it's false, is nothing but despair.
"I wanted to meet our child," he whispers without knowing what he's going to say, and it's only Kate and him, and there's a prickling heat behind his eyes.
"I did not think."
If she's clutching his hand, he's holding just as tight.
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2007-08-26 07:22 am (UTC)And they choke him.
He can't look at maybe. Not now. Because false hope, when you know it's false, is nothing but despair.
"I wanted to meet our child," he whispers without knowing what he's going to say, and it's only Kate and him, and there's a prickling heat behind his eyes.
"I did not think."
If she's clutching his hand, he's holding just as tight.