It's nice to pretend, even if she knows tomorrow it will be like nothing changed. It's nice to have him kiss her forehead and tell her "it's alright," even if nothing is.

She nods a little, unable to stop the soft hiccup of a whimper that escapes her lips.

"Th-that might help." A beat, before she adds tentatively, "'f it's-- not too much trouble."

She feels like she is, for him, most days.