He is kind to her and she is kind to everybody; if pressed he would say it’s the only thing he doesn’t like about her. This, he knows, sounds monstrous, but he understands he’s borrowed so many better traits from her. He would not use the word jealous, but resentment, yes, perhaps. He only has enough kindness for one person. He supposes that’s what love means to him. If he were a good person, he supposes, it would be a trait he would love, this boundless heart. But he isn’t a better person. He knows this about himself. She knows this, too, and because she is kind, loves him even more for it.
