Angst!

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Mark put a hand on her shoulder to stop her as she began to walk forward. "Wait a minute. Are you saying that this is it? That you mooned over him for the past three years, he shows up, and that's it?"

She shrugged and pushed his hand off her shoulder. "What am I supposed to do, Mark? Pretend that it's fine with me that he went off and had another relationship? That I don't mind that he ditched me as soon as I wasn't around? That I'm supposed to just stand around and always be there for him if he decides that he wants to be with me for the moment?"

"Is that how you see all of this? You were crying your heart out yesterday, and now you're willing to just write him out of your life?"

She shrugged. "So?"

"That's not right. It's not a healthy response."

"Sure it is. I've been trained to mourn quickly, if at all. I don't need much time to get back to normal."

"Which is why you've been acting a bit oddly today? This is normal."

She sighed. "So I'm not normal quite yet. Just give me a few more days and I'll be fine."

He stared at her. "How can you do that? How can you fight so hard to make sure that Effie and I stay your friends, but be able to walk away from the one you love? Did you not really love him, or are you just so easily able to cut out a piece of your heart?"

Anne looked at her feet. "It's a skill." She forced herself to meet his eyes. "It's one you learn when people always betray you."

Mark sighed and they both started walking again. "So you just don't want to be hurt by him again, is that it?"

"Pretty much. Am I supposed to believe that he's changed any? I waited for him, and he didn't wait for me. Seems a simple little problem, but then who's likely to have the majority of control in the relationship? The one who cares the least, generally, sadly. And do I really want to put myself in a position where I care more? Where Knives can do all he wants, be the manipulative bastard he is, just because I want him so badly it makes my heart hurt?"

"Oh." Mark paused. "So you do still want him."

"No. Yes. No. I mean…" She stopped and started over. "If I had any reason to believe that he might change, that he could love me nearly as much as I love him, then I would be in his arms in an instant. But the man is, I mean, he's just so aggravating. He has no idea how to be in a relationship. I mean, he's been in what, two now?" She paused, then muttered, "Two," and scowled, then composed herself and continued. "He's selfish and self-centered, and if I know him at all, I can predict exactly what he's thinking right now."

"What's that?"

"He's trying to find a way that makes all of this not his fault. He's going to think everything through so carefully, starting with the second I arrived in his ship and ending with when he found out that Ace is manipulating him, and he is going to figure out how he was the one who was betrayed. The man refuses to feel guilt, refuses to believe that he can do wrong. He's not just a perfectionist, no, that doesn't even begin to encompass the scope of his delusion. He's so intent on being perfect that he just cannot comprehend that he's human. Which leads into why he is able to be such a sociopath, but that's a minor digression I don't want to get into right now. And why are we talking about Knives? How did you get me to do this?"

"Do what?"

"Say so much. I don't want to think about him, don't want to try to understand him."

"Why not?"

"Because," she scowled again, "what about my pain? I don't want to figure out what makes Knives cruel. Then I'm going to feel sorry for him, or look for a way to fix him, and I don't want to do that. One, it's not healthy. I am not supposed to be his therapist. Two, what about my pain? I'm hurting, here," she almost wailed. "I don't want to think that he's hurt, too. He hurt me first, and dammit, part of me thinks he deserves what he gets."

"Only part of you?"

"I'm not a saint, Mark." She fumbled with the door to the storage place then entered. "A not entirely small part of me wants him to hurt as much as I'm hurting now."

"I don't blame you."

"Good." She sighed, and looked at the wall. "He was watching me the entire time?"

"Like he couldn't get enough of seeing you."

She sighed again, then sniffed. "I shouldn't think about him. I should just stop." She turned to look at Mark, one unheeded tear tracing its way slowly down her cheek. "Why can't I stop?"

He sighed and stepped forward, wiping the tear away with his thumb. "Because you love him."

"Why can't I stop? I want to, but it's so hard."

"It should be." He slipped his arms around her shoulders and drew her close, offering only comfort.

"This always happens to me. No one ever loves me forever." She sniffed and pushed out of the embrace, plastering a smile on her face. "Love is just overrated, I guess," she said as she slipped around him and out of the room.

Mark grabbed for the bag of clothes she had forgotten and followed her into the hall, shaking his head as he thought. He tried to catch her eye and offer comfort, but she had fallen back into her shell of indifference, and he gave up trying as they went back to his aunt's home.