"Yeah," Molly says with a sigh, hardly about to disagree with him there, and not about to pretend otherwise. "Yeah, I really wish you had, too." It wouldn't change how she feels about this, how conflicted she is, how difficult it is to figure out what to do, but at least she'd feel like she has him. For that alone, it would be somewhat easier to deal with. He may have said that he's not going anywhere, but she still can't quite manage to take that to heart. Instead, even with him this close to her, she feels so fucking alone that she can't bear it.

All at once, she can't bear just standing here crying in front of him, either, and abruptly draws away, leaving her glass of water abandoned on the counter and walking down the hall to the bedroom. She'd almost forgotten about the bag she left there the night before, and now, she isn't sure what to do with it, if she should finish packing or unpack, if she wants to leave or if she can handle staying. She doesn't get to run away from this the way he did, but she doesn't know how to get past what happened last night, or how to fix this. Hell, for all she knows, there won't be any fixing it, a thought that's far from comforting.

She stares at the bag on the bed for a long few seconds, only to find herself still at a loss, and that it's only making her feel worse. Not particularly caring, in the moment, if Lee follows her or not, she takes a seat beside it, shoulders slumping forward. As recently as yesterday morning, they'd been happy. Somehow, the thought of that just makes all of this seem even worse.