"...I don't know if I'd call it a defect," she said carefully. "It's not as though there's somethin' wrong with you."

No. It's me. It's me, it's my fault for--

For what? Not being all things to all people? She could only be who she was and screw it if that wasn't enough. He should have known better. He did know better. He knew what he was getting into.

She shifted on his lap, bringing her legs all to one side, and then moved forward to lean against his chest.