"You're allowed to care about it," she answers, not quite looking at him. "And you're allowed to need time to process the conversation. That's fine, I get it."

Maybe she needs time, too. Maybe it would be better for them to both be alone to think about all this and process it. Not that Maeve thinks time and solitude will change either of their minds which is ultimately the issue. It isn't as if they're disagreeing on something silly, like whether or not pineapple belongs on pizza. This is a fundamental difference, the sort of thing that doesn't really matter until suddenly it matters more than anything.

"It's okay," she says, finally looking at him. "It's okay if you have to go for a bit. I get it."