"Step one has been identifying the rot." He has to look up and away from her, his eyes fixing on the door at the end of the carriage. "When I first arrived here, I didn't know anything was wrong--"

He cuts himself off there, because even as he says the words he knows they're a lie. The skin across his shoulders prickles and he shifts them uncomfortably. "I had been in denial about anything being wrong," he corrects himself softly; the tension eases. "It's been-- months-- and I'm still figuring out all the ways she's fucked me up.

"Once I've figured out what needs to change, then I can start figuring out how I want to change it."