“You’re not an asshole,” she says quickly, holding him tighter still. “You traveled from the present, to the past, to the present again. Give yourself a break.”

Allison holds him close before letting go of his hand so she can hold him better. God, she wishes she could protect him from this, take all this grief away, but she knows better than that.

Kissing the top of his head, she adds gently, “He sounds very special, for you to love him like this.”

If he didn’t care, she doubts he’d be this broken up about it. He wouldn’t look so lost, so grief stricken.