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Rhys opened his mouth, intending to speak, but soon forgot what he was going to say. Suddenly, he felt very over this conversation. While he always enjoyed exchanging witty side remarks with Juliet, this was different. There was no... it felt very flat. Perhaps because neither knew what the end result of this situation would be. For the past many years, there had never really been a threat of them truly breaking apart, but this was much different. They also had children, which complicated things.

Well, not really. They were just being used as pawns in this scuffle between him and Juliet. If it did happen, Evan and Aemelia would grow up to be perfectly capable regardless of whether he and Juliet stayed together. But--- for the first time, Rhys seriously contemplated what his life would be like without Juliet. Pain-free, yes, and not to mention ridiculously less aggravating, but. But they were-- let's be serious, they made each other. No one else could seriously put up with them, let alone be in the other's presence for even half of the time they maintained. So---

The thought of being away from Juliet permanently not please him?

What? Wait. What?

This was news.

Unable to deal with this sudden realization, Rhys exhaled a couple of small huffs, wildly looking down at his hands, running them down his own chest in a lost manner. What? His cold exterior had effectively broken. His hands lifted from his chest, one running through his hair as the other pressed to the front of his face. His pride would just have to jump up his own ass and die for the night, wasn't it? Dammit! Damn damn damn dammit he hated her.

"Fine," Rhys muttered, pressing his hand tightly over his eyes. He could not manage to look at her when he said this. "You win. I was wrong to leave." Fuck, all shreds of his manhood were just shriveling up and dying now. It didn't help at all that he kind of believed what he was saying, either.