The words release the heat building in her stomach. She sinks back into place, slowly releasing a breath, staring into the snow.

What does she want?

"I don't . . . want you to go," she says after a moment. "I want . . . to understand. How this happened. Why it happened. Why it was so important to you that you felt like you needed to lie to me. I want to know if . . . what's between us . . . can be okay."

Another breath. "So I need you to talk to me. But I need you to understand that this is a lot. That I'm scared. I need you to be patient. And open. And . . . kind. I need you to understand that I'm still angry with you . . . but I'm sitting here because--because you mean more to me than anyone else. And for that I want to try."