"...Christ, you weren't kidding." 'The rude version' is right, but, well, she did tell her to go for it. She finishes the glass off, sets it down, and rubs at her face with her freed hand. "That ain't fair, petal. It ain't— hhhh."

It doesn't feel that simple. It's not that a part of her hasn't been trying to let herself accept this, and maybe she will be a step closer after all this, but it's... complicated. It feels complicated, at least, where maybe it shouldn't.