Stephen sees the moment and recognises it for what it is, because so much of him does the very same flippant thing (I am happy), but he waits her out as she pulls together the longer answer. Folds her into his side as she presses her head into his shoulder, his palm splayed against the small of her back, the casual unthinking touch which he only ever indulges with Gwenaëlle.

It’s difficult and complicated and so few people have ever been in her exact shoes, with this specific problem.

He can’t even promise it will never happen again. It could so easily happen: the Fade could take him at any moment and he’s met other Stephen Stranges, knows they’re out there walking the multiverse. And he’s been so cagey with telling people about Christine, but Gwenaëlle’s one of the few people who knows, and it does wind up oddly relevant here, another unexpected echo:

“I don’t think I ever mentioned— I once met a Christine in another universe who had never been with me. It’s jarring; they’re both the person you remember and they’re not. I probably did her a disservice by thinking of her as the woman I knew. You have to meet them where they’re at, I think. And in the meantime— whether or not he remembers it, it doesn’t change the fact that it did happen here. It was real. You’re real. You’re what I measure everything else by.”