Ooooooookay. So this is... some baggage of hers that he's gotta be real fuckin' careful about. He's reminded--abruptly, forcibly, inconveniently and of course unpleasantly--of Dave, of the ways so much of the way he looked, sounded, moved reminded him of... well, of himself, and how fucking careful he had to be.

"I'm not going to pretend that doesn't fucking suck, because it does. So I hear you. But you don't--"

He stops. Reconsiders his phrasing.

"You don't have to do that. You really fuckin' don't." Firm, but fair. Or that's how he thinks he's being. "Not with me." He raises both hands, a defensive, pre-emptive gesture--

"I know how this sounds. But just--try to believe me when I say this is different." His brows come together again, the corners of his mouth pulling down as he presses his jaw, tight.

"I didn't end up this way by accident."