[ Alan denys it, but the expression on Beth's face says she doesn't quite believe it. Her chin rests in her hand as she turns her head away to hide her face. He doesn't need to see how upset the thought makes her. ]

Maybe he should. It would make him happier.

[ All Beth can see is how the years of living with her have made him miserable. A wife that will go out on night shifts to patrol the woods outside Cauldron Lake. One who works for the government and the local neighborhood watch. A wife who keeps her world hidden at his request. It's had to have broken down their relationship. It feels that initial pull is gone--that gravitational well that drew them together.

I'm the problem. I always have been. ]

It's not your job to fix this. Especially if it can't be fixed.

[ Her eyebrows knit together. Written about her? She's never been in his stories. Maybe a character inspired by her... but never her directly. She gently moves the page in her hand. ]

Alan doesn't put me in his stories. He doesn't believe in any of this.