Nettie shook her head as the tears didn't want to leave and she hugged him again. His touch was a comfort for all the time she'd known him and she felt so childish craving it now when it was him who was suffering.

"I'm sorry.. that makes sense. This is just sudden and I am letting my emotion get to me."

She nodded weakly and closed her eyes. "No. Please! Mention it, tell me. No matter what. Don't let me being foolish bother you or make you question yourself. I'll be fine. You have to take care of yourself though."

She looked at him when he turned her face to him and rested a hand on his wrist. "I'm sorry for crying. And I never want you to leave. But.. I also want you to smile. Even if I'm not around to see it."

Yes, he was definitely going to mention it again instead of shoving it back into the bag of sharp knives it’d crawled out of.

Definitely.

“It’s alright,” he assured when she apologized again. “You should never be sorry for the way you feel. I just hate to see you cry.”

He pulled her closer again, and held her there in his arms for a few long moments before he let them finally drop.

“Ah- one moment,” Malachi retrieved the handkerchief from his pocket. With a warm smile, he lifted it to gently dry her cheeks. “See? It’s already of use to me. Would you mind making me another?”

Nettie nodded weakly as she tried to stop her tears. "I really am sorry. I don't want you to worry over me.."

She let him wipe her tears and gave a weak laugh as she nodded. "Of course.. I'll make you another. Is there anything you want me to make on if? Anything you want.." she said as she looked down feeling shameful for hurting him with her tears. She was so worried for him and made it worse.

"And if you do go to London.. tell me before you go. Don't just leave and write me later. I promise I would never stop you."

Good, she laughed. Not all that enthusiastically, but it was a step in the right direction.

Malachi maintained a smile as he considered the question, hands settling to rest at her shoulders. Before he could answer, Nettie steered the conversation back to London – and he hurriedly corrected its course.

“Hey,” he gave her shoulder a light squeeze, trying to encourage her to look up again. “Don’t worry about that. I wouldn’t.”

Carefully, he folded the handkerchief, and asked, “what’s your favorite flower? Put that on it, so I’ll always think of you when I see it.”

Nettie nodded and smiled weakly. "I am sorry I worry. I should believe you. You've never hurt me before."

She looked down in consideration and nodded. "I'll make a beautiful cascading wisteria along it. I hope you'll like it."

Her face turned up to his to give him an encouraging smile even though the way he phrased it still bothered her deep inside.

“Don’t apologize,” he reminded gently, “it’s alright. Everything will be alright.”

How many times had he told her that, while silently hoping that against all odds it would be true? How many times had he wished that he could be the one being held and promised that things would be fine, and that he'd be able to convince himself of it?

Malachi nodded once, “that will be perfect, Nettie. I know that I will.”

That much, at least, was true. His smile seemed to brighten as she lifted her head, and he raised a hand to cup her cheek.

“I promise, you’re never going to lose me. And I’m sorry for making you cry. Are you okay?”

Nettie relaxed a little when he told her it would be alright. He was always her comfort and support, and she could only try to do the same for him. She wished she was strong and wouldn't show him her silly tears, as it certainly didn't help things.

His words brought a relieved smile to her face. "I will make it as pretty as possible for you. I do hope it will bring you some joy as you always bring me."

She believed his words that she wouldn't lose him, she had always believed his words. It was just this feeling inside that she couldn't drop that made her worry for him. His question had her shake her head slowly and she rest her hands on his.

"You don't need to apologize. I cry because I worry for you. But you are always worrying for me, and you never need to. I'm the luckiest person in the world because I have the best uncle." She smiled up at him. "I won't cry any more. You said everything will be fine. And it will. But promise me, uncle.. if you have worries, no matter what. Feel free to tell me. I am so useless to you, the least I can do is listen and let you know it'll be ok."

On one hand, it was a good thing to be worried about. It meant that someone cared, and that was more than he deserved. It meant that someone did want to comfort him in return.

On the other… it felt wrong. It always felt wrong. Like his hand was being burnt where she touched it.

But his smile didn’t waver, and his hand remained still.

“Of course,” Malachi promised, “as I said, all I need is some rest.”

Slowly, he retracted his hand from her cheek and threw a glance to the presbytery door.

“I should go… as long as you’re sure that you’re alright. I don’t mind sitting out here with you or walking you home if you need me.”

Nettie nodded and gave him a small smile. "Of course.. Please get some rest. I'll leave you now." She stared at him a moment. There was something she wanted to say, but she didn't know what.

"Do remember to eat." She said softly and stared up at his face for a moment more, wishing that whatever was going on that he'd look happy and content again.

Again his words, for her, seemed to hold a double meaning. He didn't need her, she needed him. She felt that dread that she was dragging him down and burdening. It was only a matter of time before he'd be annoyed with her like her parents were. A nuisance.

"Goodbye uncle.." She turned and left him. The blond woman's worries only grew with every step but there was nothing she could do. She would just be at the ready for whenever he called upon her, but she didn't want to bother him so she wouldn't put herself in his way and demand his time any longer.

He was well aware of the fact that his niece had more to say. Could see it in her face, in the way she lingered near him, staring; he just couldn’t listen to the rest of it.

All of her well-founded worries and valid concerns. He didn’t want to hear another word.

Malachi dipped his head in agreement, smiling down at her like he intended to do just that once she left. Go inside and rest, and eat whatever hearty meal Mrs. Higgins made, and pray away the talons tearing him off the holy path.

“Visit soon, please,” he called in lieu of a farewell.

He smiled after her, watching the young woman walk away until she’d disappeared from his sight. Only then did the corners of his mouth fall flat.

Lifting the folded handkerchief, Malachi thumbed over the embroidered initials once more, tracing the lines with his nail. Then he stuffed it back into his pocket, took a deep breath, and continued his walk in the opposite direction.