Kojo trails Lucy as she walks out of her room into the living area the next morning. Much to Tim's dismay, Kojo had taken to sleeping with Lucy from the first night, and she couldn't say she minded it one bit. The fact that it got under Tim's skin and had him grumbling under his breath about his "traitorous dog" anytime Kojo gravitated toward Lucy was just an added bonus.
But this morning, Lucy feels a little bad about it. Feels pretty bad in general about how the night before had ended. But not bad enough to forget how they had gotten there.
Even after everything that had happened in Mexico, it's still too easy. Too easy to be around him. Too easy to feel pulled toward him. Too easy to fall into the trap of hoping like a masochistic idiot that maybe Tim will change his mind about her and this process. And god — why would she even want that? Clearly, it's also become far too easy to forget how badly he'd been able to hurt her after only a few days.
Tim is standing behind the island, pouring himself a cup of coffee.
He glances up at her, and it's one of those rare moments where he isn't attempting to hide what he feels. He looks uncertain.
"How are you feeling?" he finally asks when it's clear she isn't going to say anything.
Lucy nods, crossing the room to stand on the other side of the counter. "I'm okay, thanks." She takes a deep breath, not entirely sure what to do or say. It's a strange thing — feeling both remorseful for lashing out at him but also justified in her response. Everything about this man has a way of making her feel so off kilter.
Tim slides her a mug of tea, the same way he has every morning since they've moved in. Lucy glances down at it and her heart begins to ache. "Thank you," she says softly, not meeting his eyes as she lifts the mug to her lips.
He's really been trying to make up for what happened in Mexico; she knows that. He'd promised her he would try to do better when he apologized and that's exactly what he's been doing. But allowing herself to read anything more into his actions would be a mistake that could cost her dearly. And she'd have no one to blame but herself — he's doing his best to make amends, but he's also been clear about how he feels about this process, and, more importantly, how he feels about her.
"I can take you to get your car whenever you're ready," he offers. He takes a sip of his coffee and glances back at her when she doesn't respond. Lucy can actually see his guard going back up as his features tighten into the all too familiar mask of indifference.
She sighs. "Tim, I — " She shakes her head when the words don't come. Since when do words not come for her? What is this man doing to her?
She finally allows herself to meet his gaze, and he's studying her carefully as he waits for her to continue. She shakes her head. "That's okay. I'm going to Uber to work and Jackson said he'd take me to grab it afterward… but thank you, um — for everything yesterday," she finishes quickly.
He's still watching her, and for a moment she sees a flicker of that rare vulnerability when he begins to respond. But then it's him that's shaking his head.
He finally nods and shrugs. "Okay. I'm going to take Kojo out. I guess I'll see you later."
He doesn't wait for her to respond, turning to rinse out his coffee cup and load it into the dishwasher, before grabbing Kojo's leash and using it to coax him toward the door.
Lucy swallows; why is keeping him at arm's length so hard? How is she going to make it through the next six and a half weeks if she can barely stomach turning down a ride to work?
That evening after work they have homework — the first of a series of assignments around compatibility. The goal of the first exercise is to establish a baseline so they can identify any potential areas of conflict that may require compromise in their relationship.
The first part requires them to go to separate rooms and place a variety of colored rings on a set of pegs representing a Likert scale numbered one through five. The designated meanings for each of the pegs are as follows:
1 - Strongly Disagree
2 - Disagree
3 - Undecided or Neutral
4 - Agree
5 - Strongly Agree
They have a set of questions to answer across five critical compatibility categories that have been correlated with long-term marital success:
Financial Compatibility (Green)
I take time to budget and set financial goals for myself.
I prioritize paying off debt and saving over discretionary spending.
If I were to win $5,000 I'd be more likely to spend it on something fun than to save or invest it.
Lifestyle & Future Goals (Blue)
I would like to have children.
Having children is a near-term priority.
I struggle with work-life balance.
I lead an active lifestyle.
I have a low tolerance for clutter and disorder.
I consider myself easy-going and adaptable.
Sexual Compatibility (Red)
Ideally, I'd have sex multiple times a week or more in a relationship.
I consider sex a critical part of a relationship.
I am open to sexual experimentation.
Emotional Compatibility (Yellow)
I consider myself an extrovert.
I prioritize direct communication over conflict avoidance.
I consider myself an optimist.
Spiritual Compatibility (Orange)
I consider myself a deeply religious or spiritual person.
My partner must share the same religious or spiritual beliefs.
I've already decided on the religious or spiritual beliefs I'd like to instill in my children.
A compatibility score will be calculated based on the results; they'll receive points based on how far apart their answers are on each question. A lower score indicates higher compatibility — if they answer the same, they will receive zero points; if they answer within one rating of each other, they'll receive one point, and so on.
Tim's jaw drops when they meet back in the living room with their colorful peg sets and he sees how closely aligned their rings are. When a PA provides their score1 — 21, out of a possible 72, which lands them within the highly compatible range, he is even more surprised. Turns out, there are only two rings that are more than a single rating apart — one yellow and one blue.
It's not difficult for Tim to guess what they are: I consider myself an optimist and I consider myself easy-going and adaptable. They are pretty much the exact differences Tim had keyed in on from the beginning. But now, looking at the two divergent rings out of the set of eighteen, the differences don't feel nearly as insurmountable as they had when Tim had made his initial assessment.
He glances toward Lucy, curious to see if she's as surprised by the results as he is. She seems far less concerned with the outcome of the exercise and is instead focused on typing something into her phone.
He frowns for a moment, a little put off that she couldn't seem to care less about how ridiculously compatible they are until it occurs to him that she has no reason to care. He'd asserted in no uncertain terms that he already knows how this will turn out.
His irritation fades as he continues to study her. He wryly wonders if she's responding to a work email, given where they both had fallen in terms of work-life balance. She worries her bottom lip between her teeth as she focuses intently on the screen and Tim is struck by how much he loves seeing this side of her. He's only encountered it a few times when she's pulled her laptop out in the evening, but he loves the way her brow knits and her eyes narrow when she's trying to puzzle something out, loves how obviously passionate and thoughtful she is about her work.
After a few more moments of silence, one of the crew members prompts them to discuss their impressions of the results.
Lucy glances up from her phone to look at their distribution of rings.
"A strong disagree on I consider myself an optimist? I'm shocked." She sets her phone down and mockingly lifts her hands to her cheeks in a gesture of astonishment as she nods toward the divergent yellow ring.
Tim rolls his eyes and ignores her teasing. "You're not surprised at how aligned we are?" he asks curiously.
She shrugs, "Not really. I guess I assumed that a lot of these core things were taken into account when they matched us."
And yes, put that way, it is actually kind of silly that he's surprised; they were paired based on compatibility. But the intellectual idea that he and his perfect match should be compatible feels different from the realization that he is compatible with the kind, beautiful woman sitting in front of him right now, especially after seeing it illustrated in such an obvious way.
Lucy continues, meeting his eyes, "But, obviously… compatibility isn't everything."
There's nothing harsh in her tone when she says it, but it still cuts him a little. Yes, he may be the one who came into this all but decided it wouldn't work — the one who had decided to vocalize it in the worst possible way. But now, as he's starting to question his own stubborn and close-minded assessment, it's becoming unmistakably clear that Lucy no longer has any interest in seeing where this process could lead them. And even though he doesn't have a right to feel any type of way about that, it still stings.
Her words from that morning in Mexico replay in his head, Nobody that cares about me would ever treat me the way you have.
And he knows she meant what she said. But he also knows it's not true. Because he does care about her. Quite a bit more than he ever expected he would, actually.
He watches as she laughs and nods and gasps in response to one of the crew members sharing stories about the most blatant lies participants have told during the compatibility exercise to save face on TV, despite the extensive background the show has on each person.
"I mean, I really felt bad for her; this guy turned out to be a pathological liar. He actually faked a job offer to make it seem like he was making more money than her, and said he prioritized paying off debt when he was in it up to his ears. This guy was living so far out of his means — I don't think I've ever seen anyone more relieved about a prenup than his poor match."
She pushes a strand of hair back behind her ear, as her eyes flick over to Tim to gauge his reaction — that warm, inviting smile of hers filling him up and reminding him of what he'd told her when she asked him why he thought they had been matched — Being around you — it, uh … it makes me happy.
And suddenly the idea of spending the rest of his life with her doesn't seem that crazy. Or at least the idea of exploring whether it could be a possibility doesn't.
It's too late, he reminds himself as the heavy weight of regret settles at the bottom of his stomach. Why would she ever risk trusting him again?
The next night, Tim and Lucy settle onto the floor in front of their coffee table to take on their next compatibility assignment — one that is focused on answering intimate compatibility questions as honestly as possible. They've armed themselves after having been warned by one of the experts that this particular assignment might get intense — Tim cracks open his second beer as Lucy slowly slips on a comically full glass of wine.
The only upside is that production decided to capture this exercise via the couples cam and a stationary camera in hopes of encouraging each pair to be more open.
She glances down at the questionnaire and then meets Tim's eyes before firing off the first question; the faster they get started, the faster they'll be done, right?
"Have you ever cheated or been cheated on? Could you ever come back from infidelity?"
Tim winces, briefly looking away before turning back to meet her gaze. He swallows, "Uh — I haven't. Cheated, I mean. But Isabel — I don't know if it really counts as cheating… she'd already been gone for months. But she moved on after she left me. Before we got divorced, so I don't know. I guess I've been cheated on, but I've never really thought about it that way."
Lucy stares at him, watching the complexity of emotion cross over his face — sadness and hurt and anger and betrayal and confusion. She feels something twist in her gut when she realizes it's the first time he's voluntarily chosen to put his guard down and be vulnerable with her. He easily could have provided a vague response and turned the question back to her, but he hadn't. And though she hasn't actually known him all that long, she knows him well enough to be certain that it wasn't easy for him.
It's not a ton of information, but it's the most he's shared with her about Isabel or his romantic past, in general. And it's enough to start her mind whirring as she attempts to connect the dots amongst the little she knows about his history — she'd left him and she'd been unfaithful while he had still been committed to their marriage for an extended period during her absence.
He continues, "As for whether I could ever come back from infidelity — well, if you asked me before my marriage collapsed I would have said absolutely not."
He shakes his head and lets out a mirthless laugh, "Isabel said she hated how black and white I was about things, and my feelings on cheating — emotionally or physically — were no different."
"And now?" Lucy asks softly.
Tim shakes his head and squeezes his eyes shut. Lucy watches his Adam's apple bob as he attempts to hold back his emotion.
His voice is thick when he finally responds. "I would have done anything — forgiven anything — if it meant we could get back what we had lost. But, apparently… it doesn't work that way."
Lucy feels something rise in her own throat as she studies him. She slides her hand over his, "I'm so sorry, Tim."
He nods briefly but keeps his gaze focused in front of him, clearly not wanting her to see the tears in his eyes as he attempts to blink them back.
She only allows her hand to linger over his for a few seconds. This is so much harder than she was prepared for — these questions — or, actually, Tim's vulnerability — slamming into her resolve to keep her guard up even harder than the current had slammed into her body in that cavern in Mexico.
Tim clears his throat and turns his attention back to her. "What about you?"
"I haven't cheated, but I've been cheated on. But it wasn't nearly as — it was just a dumb boyfriend I lived with in grad school. Honestly, the worst part was that he cheated with my best friend. I mean, the only reason I was even still with him was that I couldn't afford to move out and she knew that, but it still really, really sucked losing my boyfriend and best friend in one go. And it made me feel like I just didn't matter — that they didn't care about me or my feelings at all."
Tim nods, and though she's brushing it off, he can see the very real hurt in her eyes. "So what happened after that?"
Lucy shrugs, "I took on a second job, moved out, and never spoke to either of them again, though we still have some friends in common so I wasn't ever able to completely escape them."
She makes a small sound of derision. "They're actually still together. I don't know if that makes all of it better or worse. And can you believe I just got an invitation to their wedding? Why would they even do that? It's like they are trying to humiliate me."
Tim chuckles and shakes his head. Despite his initial concern that she would be too young for him, he's come to realize she's far more mature than he'd given her credit for — more emotionally mature than him in some ways despite the decade spanning between them.
And oddly enough, this is one of the first conversations they've had where she's shared an emotional response that feels her age. And it's not putting him off at all — he's enjoying getting to see and get to know more of who she is and how she thinks.
"Maybe they're trying to make amends?" he offers.
Lucy rolls her eyes, grumbling, "Right… amends. By making me starve myself for a month so I can fit into a drop-dead sexy dress and —"
Tim actually laughs out loud this time and Lucy glares at him.
"Come on," he scoffs. "You can't possibly expect me to believe you don't know how hot you are. Besides, that guy was clearly an idiot and nowhere near good enough for you, so why do you even care what either of them thinks?"
Lucy flushes at the unexpected compliment, dropping her eyes briefly to collect herself before looking back up at him as her lips begin to twitch.
"I'm sorry — I don't think I caught that first part. Do you think you could you say it again?" she preens.
Tim rolls his eyes, and his tongue darts out between his lips as he attempts to hold in his laughter.
"Moving on…" he says teasingly as he lifts the prompt sheet to read their next question. Lucy pouts, and he has to suppress his urge to wipe that expression off of her lips with his own.
"What makes you feel the most loved?"
Lucy's smile fades and she shifts uncomfortably and suddenly it's like the temporary bubble of laughter they'd found themselves in has burst, and they're both aware again of how uncomfortable it is to have to share such personal things about themselves with each other when they are both actively attempting to keep their distance.
She shrugs. "I don't know… I guess just being treated well — being treated like what I want and what I think and what I feel actually matters."
Tim frowns, hating how sad and uncertain she sounds, as if she's not actually sure that those things do matter.
Her eyes are sad when they meet his, and, god, he wishes he could turn back time to a point before he'd managed to treat her in a way that is the exact opposite of what she is describing. Wishes he could pull her into his arms and tell her that she does matter without the words sounding hollow because they are coming from him.
"I think I just want to feel like whoever I'm with actually sees me and cares about me, not just who they want me to be or who they think I should be. You know?"
He waits, wondering if she'll continue since the feelings she's expressing are starting to get more specific.
She opens her mouth and then clamps it shut, shaking her head instead. " Sorry. I feel like I'm not answering this well…" She blinks and then groans, briefly covering her eyes with her hand in mortification, "Oh my god, I was probably just supposed to say 'Words of Affirmation' or something, right? What is wrong with me?"
"You answered it perfectly, Lucy," he reassures.
She rewards him with a small smile and then turns the question back to him. "What makes you feel loved, Tim?"
"Acts of service," he teases, "Also a fan of physical touch."
Lucy shoves at him playfully.
And even though he's had more time to mull on it, it's not any easier for him to answer the question. It's not something he's given much thought to and even as he begins to talk, he's realizing just how much he may still have to unwind.
"I think — everything that happened with Isabel — the way it went down — it all kind of made me feel — I don't know. I guess maybe it brought up some stuff from my childhood, too…"
He shakes his head feeling overwhelmed and confused. "Now I'm not answering this question well. I think I want to feel like whoever I'm with is going to fight for what we have as hard as I will. That it wouldn't be easy to walk away. That I — what we have — isn't so disposable."
Lucy sucks in an uneven breath and Tim finally allows himself to look at her. Her eyes are filling with tears and he feels suddenly embarrassed — like he's shared too much and made himself the object of her pity.
He can feel himself closing off as she scoots in next to him.
She nudges his side, "Are you going to punch me if I hug you?"
And it's so unexpected, so ridiculous that he can't help but laugh as he shakes his head and lifts his arm to wrap around her as she moves to embrace him.
A barely audible, "You're not disposable, Tim," escapes her lips as she slides her arms around him, and just like that his urge to pull away from her is gone. And he's back to wanting to be as close to her as possible.
They don't part for an embarrassingly long time — neither wanting to let go and face the frustration and confusion that seems to have become more the norm than the exception these days when it comes to puzzling out what exactly is happening between them. Tim finally pulls back when Kojo lumbers sleepily up from his bed in the corner of the room and paws at the door indicating he needs to go out.
He gets to his feet and extends a hand to Lucy to help her up. "Maybe we save the rest of this for another night?" he suggests.
Lucy nods her agreement, looking suddenly relieved. "I think that a good idea."
On Saturday morning, Tim and Lucy both carve out time to finish settling into their apartment and get ready for the pseudo housewarming they will be hosting for their friends and family later that evening.
Lucy sets to work putting together an array of snacks and appetizers for the evening while Tim unpacks the few remaining boxes, hangs the pictures and art Lucy has set out in various locations to "spruce things up", and tidies the apartment.
Lucy prepares a variety of flavorful meat and vegetable fillings, before painstakingly assembling dozens of dumplings. Tim pauses to watch as her fingers move adeptly, folding each wrapper around the filling in a variety of intricate shapes.
He shakes his head, thinking that he'd never have the attention span or patience to craft something that required so much focus and attention to detail, but she seems to be genuinely enjoying herself. He's certainly not mad about getting to taste the result, though, if the dumplings taste anywhere near as good as they look.
It's late afternoon when Tim decides to tackle the daunting task of bathing Kojo in the bathtub since their apartment has no yard. He knows he's in for a challenge, but he wants his pup to be presentable for their company.
While Tim drags Kojo and a random assortment of peanut butter and toys and treats and bath accessories into his bathroom, Lucy completes the final bits of preparation on the dumplings and other hors d'oeuvres — a variety of crostinis and bites and mini pies. She retrieves the tiered stack of trays she's tucked into the freezer to hold the dumplings until she's ready to steam them and realizes she'll need one more tier to hold the last batch.
She retrieves a step ladder from the hall closet and climbs up onto the very top step, attempting to reach the tray Tim has stashed on the uppermost shelf of one of their kitchen cabinets. And yes, technically she knows you're not actually supposed to stand on the top step but sometimes these are just the kinds of risks you have to take when you don't have the same reach as your six-foot-one roommate. Her fingers are just grasping the edge of the platter when Kojo bursts from the bathroom like a soapy bat out of hell.
She's barely turned her head to look toward a shouting Tim as he sprints after the runaway animal when Kojo clambers through the kitchen, knocking into the side of the ladder with just enough force to send it teetering in the midst of his great escape.
Lucy shrieks, releasing the platter, and desperately attempts to grab hold of one of the shelves as the ladder precariously wobbles, but it's too late. Gravity has already decided it prefers a horizontal orientation for the ladder and for Lucy. She presses her eyes closed, silently praying she doesn't bust her head open on the edge of the island, and holds her breath as she awaits her sure-to-be painful meeting with the cold floor.
And while she does slam into something firm as the sound of metal clattering to the tile fills her ears, it's not cold and it's not the floor. She cracks an eye open to see Tim's concerned face staring down at her.
"Am I dead?" she asks in confusion, certain there's no possible way this man made it across the room in time to catch her in his arms like some ridiculous modern-day version of a knight in shining armor.
Tim shakes his head and chuckles as he moves to gently set her down, but she continues to cling to him, not entirely trusting herself to stand on her own two feet until her disorientation wanes.
He tightens his hold to steady her as he gazes apologetically down at her. "I'm so sorry; I wasn't expecting him to bolt like that. Are you okay?"
His gorgeous blue eyes are locked on hers and he's looking at her with that gentle concern that has a way of making her stomach somersault.
For a moment, she forgets that he's asked her a question. He really is beautiful.
He moves to brush her hair back from her face but pauses midway as uncertainty flickers through his eyes, instead allowing his hand to drop to his side.
"Lucy?" he prods gently. And something about the husk in his voice unsettles her.
She shakes herself. "I'm fine; it's fine."
But she's not fine. His other hand is still settled high on her waist, still up underneath the hem of her cropped sweatshirt, where it had settled when he had caught her. His fingers are warm and soft against her side and suddenly all she can think about is his bare skin against hers — how completely insane it is that she actually wants to feel him, all of him, pressed against her again.
Her head tips back involuntarily, and she doesn't miss the way Tim's eyes darken or the way the pace of his breathing quickens. He leans in and her lips part ever so slightly in anticipation.
What the hell is she doing? She scrambles back from him just as Kojo bulldozes through the small opening her withdrawal has created between them. He skitters to a stop and begins to scarf down the raw dumplings that are scattered across the floor. Her dumplings — the ones she had spent the entire day preparing, more than that if you count the time she spent preparing the wrappers the night before.
She looks completely crestfallen as she glances back and forth between the floor and the island counter where the tower of trays had been sitting until Tim had unwittingly knocked the entire stack over in his rush to catch her. Fuck.
He grabs hold of Kojo by his collar and firmly guides the protesting dog back into the bathroom, certain he's going to be dealing with a pile of dumpling vomit in the very near future. He orders his now remorseful pet to sit and fixes him with his most disappointed look before closing the bathroom door behind him and returning to the kitchen where Lucy is working to clean up the mess, not even glancing at him as she deposits the fruits of her labor into the garbage.
"Lucy — I … I'm so sorry. This is all my fault. I should have had him on a leash or shut the bathroom door — I feel terrible."
She glances up at him and though her disappointment is still evident, she's already shaking her head. "Please don't. It was just an accident."
She turns away and reaches down to collect one of the trays. The tray wobbles when her hand shakes, betraying that she's more upset than she's letting on.
She sets the tray on the island and braces herself by grabbing hold of the edge before finally turning to face him again.
"Seriously, it's not a big deal."
Tim frowns, feeling like if someone had destroyed something he'd worked to create for hours and hours with the same loving attention Lucy had poured into the dumplings, it would be a pretty big deal.
"Anyway, we still have some food for the party," she nods toward the other appetizer trays. "I'll just run to the store to grab some veggies and stuff for a cheese board. Tamara's trying out being a vegetarian, so I just want to make sure she has enough to eat."
Tim sighs, "You worked so hard preparing everything today and yesterday… I really am sorry; I can't believe I wasn't more careful."
Lucy snorts as she crosses the kitchen to him, her hand coming up to give his forearm a comforting squeeze. "Are you kidding me? I will take smashed dumplings over smashing my head in any day. I promise it's fine, Tim. It does suck that all of that went to waste, but it's not like I can't make more another day. Please don't beat yourself about it. And definitely don't beat Kojo up about it, or I'll have to hurt you."
She nods her head toward the sounds of sad whining and clawing at the bathroom door. "How about I give you a hand this time?"
The second bathing attempt goes a little bit better, though Lucy and Tim somehow end up covered in more water and shampoo than Kojo. The dog's remorse is apparently too short-lived to prevent a return to his rambunctious ways as soon as Tim lifts him back in the tub.
Tim steals frequent glances at Lucy as he lathers soap into the dog's fur. She is on her knees in front of Kojo, attempting to keep him distracted with some well-placed head and ear scratches. Kojo is squinting at her, head angled toward her touch, his tongue lolling out of his mouth as he pants happily. He is undoubtedly loving every second of the attention, and Tim honestly can't blame him.
It's not the first time Kojo has been in some way responsible for creating friction in his relationships, and though most everyone has come around to love the big dopey creature as much as he does with some encouragement, coaching, and a shit ton of treats, he can't help but feel a bit relieved that none of that will be necessary with Lucy. If she's at all upset with him or Kojo, she certainly isn't showing it.
He had barely fought off his urge to pull her into his arms and thank her for being so damn wonderful after she'd been so incredibly forgiving and understanding about the dumpling debacle.
But he's trying to be cognizant of the fact that she is [understandably] trying to keep some distance between them. He'd overstepped that night after the hospital, and her signals have been more than clear on that front. At times, he has to admit, it can be hard not to mistake her kindness and empathy for something more, but he's not naive enough for any thoughts along those lines to last for long.
And yet, somehow, he had still been about to kiss her in the kitchen. And he absolutely would have if she hadn't been the one to pull away. He honestly hates himself a little for that — for not respecting her boundaries even though he had promised he'd do better by her after Mexico.
With their powers combined, they somehow manage to keep Kojo confined to the tub until he is at least mostly toweled dry.
Tim glances at his watch. "It's getting late. Why don't you grab a shower and start getting ready? I'll get this guy brushed and then I'll run to the store."
She begins to shake her head, but Tim continues before she can get a word in edgewise. "Seriously, Lucy — it's the least I can do."
Her lips turn upward and she nods, "Okay. Thanks. That would be great."
They climb to their feet and Tim has to force his eyes away from where the once oversized T-shirt Lucy was wearing is now clinging to her chest and leaving very little to the imagination. Her arms start to prickle with goosebumps as the chill of the AC settles over her damp skin. He reaches around her to pull a fluffy, oversized towel from the shelf. He shakes it out and wraps it around her, knowing that this is the right time to step back and allow her to leave the bathroom. But instead, he slides his hands up and down her arms in an attempt to warm her, even as he is continuing to drip water onto the floor.
She smiles sweetly up at him for a moment before pulling her bottom lip between her teeth and drawing the towel in tighter around herself. He struggles to remember the last time he wanted to kiss someone this much.
Oh. That's right. It was her. In the kitchen. Less than an hour ago. What was that about respecting her boundaries?
He briefly presses his eyes closed and then gives her arms a final squeeze before taking a step back from her.
