"Neither did I," she inclines her head in acknowledgment. "I didn't expect any of this."

It may look from the outside as though she's hiding her emotions. Truly, she's just deeply, deeply confused. He's turned her world upside down with joy and pain and hunger and loss and she truly doesn't know what they do now.

So, she does what she's done ever since she lost him: she rolls with the punches and gets on with the situation at hand. "Go," she says, and she's not kicking him out. He knows her well enough to know the tone, the compassion in her eyes. She clasps his hand to be sure of it.

"Go tonight to... whatever his name is. Take whatever comfort you need to help you process the situation. Come back tomorrow morning, and we'll discuss whatever happens next then. Staring at one another with pits in our stomachs will resolve nothing."

And you still smell good enough to eat.