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Odette looked down at his blurry hand, immediately realizing she wanted to take it. She wanted to take his hand, feel his skin against hers and be comforted by it, knowing that doing so would help begin to fix this. Fix how she felt, fix her inability to control herself, fix this uncomfortable feeling she felt growing between them, but--- it--- she--- couldn't. It wasn't---- her brow furrowed miserably. Noah couldn't just tell her to come in, and act like that would make everything be fine. It wasn't fine, nothing was fine---

Her mind began to reel as that thought took over her mind. It wasn't fine, it wasn't fine, because--- he hadn't told her, he hadn't told her anything, it felt--- and he had always been hers, and now--- it didn't feel like that, he felt like... like--- like--- like a stranger, like she had gotten herself into this whirlwind of a relationship to someone that she didn't--- was it wrong that Odette felt she had exposed everything about herself to him, only to find that events like this made it seem like he had not done the same? No, he didn't understand--- with each of these thoughts rolling through her stream of conscious, she felt a deep guilt. Noah was her husband, they were married with children, how could she be thinking these things? It didn't, it didn't---

This internal conflict filled her so much so that she began to feel extremely nauseated. This was his house, with him being the one who had wanted to get married, and have children, when in the beginning she had wanted none of that. It hadn't even been on her radar, something remotely appealing!

But that wasn't right at all! She loved Terry and Anna, and married life had been so surprisingly exactly what she'd been missing, so--- so-- Odette pressed her hands to her forehead in an attempt to steady herself. What did she do? How could she--- where could she--- how could she tell him the things she was thinking, let alone utter them aloud? They were horrible, thoughts that had apparently been stewing for quite some time, but nonetheless things that were too hurtful to say to him, now, after all this time.

Her head began to shake, and Odette did not step closer to Noah. "I look at you, and--- I think of her," she started, unsure of where these words were coming from. "I think-- what else do I not know? What else--- has happened that I don't know about? And--- you can't just... tell me to come inside--- because I can't just act like all of this---" she motioned her hands at herself, in a sharp way "--- is fine when it's not." How else could she explain? She could barely explain to herself.

She shouldn't have come. That, at least, was clear. Odette was not ready to talk about this, she wasn't ready to look at him and feel that dying need to make up. It just wasn't--- she couldn't even trust herself. Odette shook her head again, dropping her gaze to the ground. "I shouldn't have come." Her eyes closed in attempt to stop the burning sensation that had taken over them. "This isn't working..." Knees beginning to wobble, Odette felt her legs grow weaker.