When I went downstairs to leave, W was on the couch with a tissues, and damp eyes. I asked her, are you ok? She says, yes, just her allergies. Ok, but by her body language and position say something else, but I don't pry, if she wanted to talk, she would, so I clam up my normally needy self to find out what's up with her, and say I need to run out, and split.
