This, Sonia decides, must be Byerly at his most honest, his most naked. His words, she still doesn't know which to trust, but the near-trembling, the tears, his voice...Sonia doesn't think even Byerly Vorrutyer could fake them so convincingly. She wants to believe that, anyway. She needs to. There must be some bottom layer, some bedrock to hit after endless digging.
That's not my fault, she almost wants to say. That wasn't my choice. But she doesn't. The idea that Piotr would do that to Byerly is -- it doesn't feel right, but it doesn't sound entirely wrong, either, and the thought makes her sick. Instead she just looks at him, tears still rolling down her cheeks, hair stuck to her face, utterly aching.
"You feel what you feel," Sonia says softly, her voice creaking around the tears. "That isn't up to me. If it hurts..." Of course it hurts. Betrayal does no one any good. "I can't know what's in your heart, Byerly. But I won't deny you your pain. I wouldn't ever try to take that from you."
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That's not my fault, she almost wants to say. That wasn't my choice. But she doesn't. The idea that Piotr would do that to Byerly is -- it doesn't feel right, but it doesn't sound entirely wrong, either, and the thought makes her sick. Instead she just looks at him, tears still rolling down her cheeks, hair stuck to her face, utterly aching.
"You feel what you feel," Sonia says softly, her voice creaking around the tears. "That isn't up to me. If it hurts..." Of course it hurts. Betrayal does no one any good. "I can't know what's in your heart, Byerly. But I won't deny you your pain. I wouldn't ever try to take that from you."