[ She hates how relieved she feels, knowing that Max didn't want to move on, even after all she'd done and couldn't promise she wouldn't do again. It feels selfish and wrong to be happy for it, but Chloe's never claimed to be a good person for these very reasons. The thought of Max loving someone else made her feel a jealousy she hadn't even known she was capable of, even after Rachel, but the hypocrisy of it all makes her tear herself up inside, hating that she's behaving in the same way as people who fucked her up in the first place.

She squeezes her hands, nodding, wanting to be able to talk to her, to let it all out, but never quite knowing how. Never knowing what would overwhelm her, what would be that final push that broke all the promises to stay. She had to trust that there wasn't one. But trust didn't come easily anymore. ]

I'm here for you too, you know. If... you ever need to talk about Wonderland or - or ... home. [ The last word comes out quiet, weak, filled with the emotion she's been trying so hard to hold back. Home that wasn't really home anymore. Safe, but no longer hers.

Then she goes and asks that and Chloe suddenly feels like she's going to throw up. She regrets saying she'd answer anything honestly because right now, all she wants to do is laugh it off and change the subject or run from the room and avoid it entirely. Her silence probably answers everything and she spends more time studying the way their hands hold one another than she does trying to answer the question.

She can't look at her. Can't see the pain she's about to cause her for acting on her own, self-involved desires. ]

... Yes. I have. [ She swallows, trying to keep her grip on her hands tight in case she goes to pull away. ] I'm... sorry.