[ She is putting them away again, husband and gone. They do not pass through her safely yet, are the kind of lightning that grounds in her and burns, and she does not want to curl around the wound again here.

Perhaps he will learn to recognize this in her too; the moments when her eyes are too clear, her voice the even lull of a hurricane's eye. She is catching tears to put into her pockets to look at later when she is on her own. ]

Perhaps I did not wish her gone, but even knowing she was not a lover I have hated your wife. Been cold and petty for nothing but that she made you smile.

Even as I wish you to be happy I envy anyone who brings you joy unmixed with the taste of something old and broken.

[ She shakes her head and kisses his. ]

I cannot fault you if you hate him. I cannot fault you if you hate his counterpart now fallen from the Fade. As much as we may wish it otherwise our love has shadows in its corners, my Byerly, and we are neither of us monsters for sometime raging at the light we cannot have.

It is easier than sorrow to be angry.