"Oh, shuddup," she says without any actual force behind it, grumbling for the sake of grumbling. She takes another swig from her glass and wipes her mouth on her hand, letting out a breath. "I trust him. With just about everything. When somethin' happens he's right up there with you in my first thoughts, whether 'cause I'm worryin' about him or 'cause I need to talk to him or... whatever. But it ain't the same way. I do—"

Another breath, then, quieter: "I do love him, but not like that, y'know?"