She hesitates, stretching her hand so it's nearly to his and then second guessing herself. Her hand closes and shrinks away from him, but before she pulls away entirely she grabs his hand and squeezes. Cashmere's glad she asked him to stay. She's not much of a conversationalist but it's better to have someone one to talk at instead of throwing her furniture around the room.

"I'd want him to be happy." She's not convinced that she can do the same. Happy was hard at home, and it'll be harder now.

Still holding his hand, she moves to bury her face further beneath her other arm, like she might successfully hide away from everything. She's quiet again until her shoulders shake with an escaping sob. She hasn't allowed herself to cry until this moment.