“She might have meant the de Fonces,” is weak, and she knows it's weak, and she doesn't even sound as if she's trying to sell herself on it, much less him. Even if Cosima had meant the de Fonces,

everything he's just said, she knows, too. There is a limited amount of time before he stumbles across it, maybe even stumbles directly into someone who simply expects him to already know. He'd raise a few eyebrows reappearing in Hightown, Maker knows. And what will anyone think of her trying to keep it a secret, if she does, what would he—

Gwenaëlle's train of thought shudders to a halt, and she looks up to that Look he led with, and:

“I'm sorry, this is fucked. I shouldn't be— this must be deeply fucking weird, for you.” She is dimly aware that she has slowly phased out the word strange in conversation with him, and tries not to suddenly and hysterically laugh at the thought, taking a deep breath in. “We were very separated before the Fade took him back, this isn't...”

She tries to order her thoughts. Comes back with, “We were cruel to each other at the end of things. I started a lot of it. I just don't want to do that.”