The sadness in his eyes made her heart twist. She recognized that kind of longing—her grandmother had worn it sometimes, usually when she thought no one was watching. Elise had always assumed it was grief. Maybe it had been something else entirely.
Elise placed a hand lightly on the armrest between them, offering silent comfort. She didn’t ask questions; she sensed he wasn’t ready to speak the whole truth, and she respected the boundaries he held so tightly around himself.