“Sometimes,” he says gently, when she’s finished, “the emotions of living something the first time prevent us from seeing the true picture, don’t they?” He rubs at his beard. “If I could go back – the things in my life that I would just stand and truly, fully witness, if I knew how they were going to turn out . . .” Jen stares at Andy, this younger, less jaded, more sentimental version of him. “Maybe it’s that . . .” she says. Watchfulness. Witnessing her life, and all its minutiae, from a distance, in a way. And maybe that’s all she needs to know.
