"My best mate..." For a split-second he wondered whether he was going to say it, but the whisky had lifted the guard he usually kept upon himself: why not say it, why not let go?
“He was sorry, genuinely sorry, for the pain she was in. Yet the revelation had caused certain other feelings—feelings he usually kept under tight rein, considering them both misguided and dangerous—to flex inside him, to test their strength against their restraining bonds.”
‘Thank you,’ said Robin, as startled as she was gratified.
‘Can we agree, though — please? That in the future, we talk these things through?’
‘If I’d asked you — ’
‘Yeah, I might’ve said no, and I’d’ve been wrong, and I’ll bear that in mind next time, OK? But as you keep reminding me, we’re partners, so I’d be grateful —’
‘All right,’ said Robin. ‘Yes. We’ll discuss it. I’m sorry I didn’t.’