Mitchell took her statement as truth, because he really didn't know anymore. Things were happening so far. He didn't feel panicked. He didn't feel like he needed to slow down, stop, take a moment, reconsider. But he could feel his leaps in logic stretching out vast and supported behind him. They felt right; he'd felt some kind of thrill out of making them, finding a place to land at the end. But looking back, you had to wonder. Sookie supplied the words for him and he took it, took a foot down that path and didn't look back.

A year was shattering before his eyes. No, had shattered. His life was as good as in shambles, propped up for the moment only by Sookie's presence. Someone to take care of him. Someone to change for. He hadn't been wrong this time. Sookie was that. Mitchell was the one who didn't fit. He didn't deserve to change.

"Get out," he said. "Before you embarrass yourself." He needed to lick his wounds, crawl into bed, into a bottle and never come out. He couldn't do that with Sookie standing there, trying not to try.