Seeing the waves of sympathy (and guilt?) reflect in Anne's eyes, Murphy shook his head. Briefly he looked at her, his own eyes red and welling.
"I... I don't know. Honestly I had no idea I was asleep for very long." It didn't feel very long. He felt tired instead, like all he wanted was to close his eyes and sleep the pain away and maybe, just maybe, he'd get to see Charlie again.
To reach out through the impossible reality and grasp his son's hand as they walk home, talking about cars and things.
Then Murphy's own guilt weighed in, realizing what this must look like to Anne. Realizing what this must be doing to her as well.
"I know this probably looks bad..." But then what? Murphy didn't know what else to say. That it was unhealthy? That he'll stop? As if he knew how to do that even if he wanted...
He didn't want to. It looks bad, but he didn't want it to stop.
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"I... I don't know. Honestly I had no idea I was asleep for very long." It didn't feel very long. He felt tired instead, like all he wanted was to close his eyes and sleep the pain away and maybe, just maybe, he'd get to see Charlie again.
To reach out through the impossible reality and grasp his son's hand as they walk home, talking about cars and things.
Then Murphy's own guilt weighed in, realizing what this must look like to Anne. Realizing what this must be doing to her as well.
"I know this probably looks bad..." But then what? Murphy didn't know what else to say. That it was unhealthy? That he'll stop? As if he knew how to do that even if he wanted...
He didn't want to. It looks bad, but he didn't want it to stop.