"Atlas—"
"I know," he said quickly. "I know you don't feel that way. I know this is—I'm just convenient. The only person here. I know that."
"That's not true."
He looked at her. "Isn't it?"
"I don't know." She was crying again. "I don't know what's real anymore. I don't know if what I feel is real or just—just desperation. Just needing someone. Anyone."
"It doesn't matter."
"How can you say that?"
"Because either way, it's helping you survive. Either way, it's getting you through this." He stood. "And that's all that matters. You. Surviving. Getting back to James and your life and everything Dante tried to take from you."
"And you?" she whispered. "What happens to you?"
"I'll be fine."
"No you won't."
"No," he admitted. "Probably not. But that's not your problem."
"Yes it is. B
