[Rick knows damn well Evie's capacity for affection and understanding. Thinking that her love isn't limitless isn't the problem. A wedge of doubt has been driven through him of the sort he hadn't felt since he'd first arrived in London. Surrounded by strangers who all adored her, Rick had feared that she would realize her mistake in him. That one of these suitors who knew her better would be better suited for her. Perhaps someone less crass, less stubborn, and more accustomed to the London life. The feeling had faded rapidly back then... but it reared its ugly jealous head in the light of this affair.

In his heart, Rick understands deeply and truly that there could be no better match than they are for each other. If they could survive nine years, they would survive ninety. They could survive this-- eventually. No matter how much their raised voices argued otherwise.]

I'm not a mind-reader, Evelyn. You've been acting weird for the last couple of weeks and brooding when you think I'm not looking. What am I supposed to think? How was I supposed to know what you were agonizing over? What parts of this really bothered you?

[He paces back and forth a few steps. Of course she deserves comfort, and the isolation is cruel beyond anything he'd ever experienced. But it's-- he's simply not okay.]

Is there anything else you want to tell me?