Somehow, Sonia's startled to see him cry. It makes her stomach tighten uncomfortably, a strange sense of falling.

"There you go again," she says, voice shaking, "telling me how I'm supposed to feel. You cannot permit me to be unhappy? Who the hell died and put you in charge of my heart?"

She doesn't quite move, but she leans forward, nothing but hurt and frustration on her face. "That isn't how it works. If a friend is unhappy, you're supposed to help them, not -- not assign yourself responsibility to having failed to prevent it in the first place. So no, it isn't easier to believe. It's absolute horseshit."