"I wouldn't let you fall," is what she offers, seriously.

"But that's the rub, isn't it? Here is not there, or wherever either of us goes next, or anywhere but here. I have no idea if I should adapt to here, or hold on to what's allowed me to survive out there. I wouldn't know what to tell you even if you were asking."

She reaches to pick up the pants, to study the stitches he's put in and the way the edges match up.