"Good," he says, ruffling his hair and sitting down. "Good." There's a large part of him that thinks they might be muddling along better without him, especially in this state, but he also feels terrible for not being there, and it's hard to blame onesself in both ways at once. He gives her a small, self-aware smile, admitting, "I miss you and the children, too, really."

"Well," he says with a brave attempt at a smile. "We've been better." Grantaire rests both hands on his neck and looks up at her. "Honestly? We're foundering," he admits. "I'm drinking, Edgar's just -- so angry, and he's never done well with being rational when he's hurting, either. It's been five years, nearly, with Neil, you know? Neither of us know how to be without him. We're only our worst parts. Not to each other --" he hastens. "But it's hard to just go on as normal, when what is that, really? I don't know how to help, even; that's the worst bit."

He sighs. "I'm sorry. That's a lot to just -- put in your lap."