[It startles her. She looks at his hand around hers, not stopping him, not pulling away--it's like she just doesn't know what to do with what's happening.]

I only wanted...

[...]

If I could change the story, I'd never have to worry about him feeling the same resentment or anger as I do. But he's gone, and he's never coming back.

[Does it actually look like she's going to cry? She shields her face with her other hand.]

I can't even remember his name anymore.