Every word cuts him to the bone, sharper than any blade. Slowly, his gaze lifts from the floor to lock with hers, bleak and nearly black with an intensity to it that's drowning deep.

"But you aren't." A shudder runs through him as he hears his own voice, as the truth of his words strikes home. "Happy, I mean. If I move, you flinch. Steve's in the hospital because of me; I put him there."

He draws a ragged breath, but doesn't look away. "The man who called you angel, who made you laugh and smile, the man who... " He trails off there as something splinters in his throat and swallows, hard. "I don't know who that man is, any more. I haven't for years. I can't give him back to you. I don't know how."

He takes another breath. "I shouldn't have come. I'm sorry."