She can't stop him. She wants to, seeing him go by, wants to reach out and grab him and throw him to the ground and scream with some anger she so rarely finds, that how dare he feel this way about himself, about how she can't lose another person, about how it's always her fault. But her voice dies in her throat and her limbs seem to lock, and it's everything she has to learn against the door and just stay upright as he goes.

As soon as he's past her, finally, her knees give out, and she falls hard on her ass, drawing up her knees and balancing her elbows on them to hold her head.

Fuck. Damnit.

She's not as good at this as she used to be.