He watched her through unaffected eyes, or tried. It was a failed experiment. All he wanted to do was to move to her, pull her against him and beg her to let it all go. He'd deal with the tears; hell, she could use him as a punching bag if her wishes so led her. The ache in him for her was powerful. More so than it had been ever for Summer.

It edged on the pain he felt for Sarah - that untouched, pristine ache he had coddled and fed for years. For a moment, it threatened to engulf that pain; threatened to dim it.

"I don't need you, especially not you."

His throat closed for a moment, breathing an impossibility before his lungs burned. Sucking in a harsh breath he was kneeling in the next instant, his hands busy gathering up pearls without comment. When he had the last, he sat back on his haunches, his eyes studying the bent form of Charlotte. Without so much as a word, he took the handful of pearls and placed them, with as little noise as he could manage, onto the footstool before her couch.

Standing, still not taking his gaze from her, he swallowed, his hand reaching to touch her and pulling back. He drew his words forth with an effort, the tightness of his tone obvious.

"When you need me, Char, just let me know. I'll come. I'll always come."

At that, he turned to leave; prepared himself for the knowledge that this may be the last time he had the chance to be with her. He couldn't do it. Not yet.

A staggering step had him back and by her side, his hands gently, forcibly, removing the remaining pearls from her own soft hands. His arms encircling her; his nose pressing into curls. "I love you."