She starts a bit at the nudge on the door. Finds herself with a hand resting tentatively on the knob as she listens.

There's a rough sob that escapes from her lips, soft but still audible, as he works through things.

"I shouldn't have-- asked you to choose, Ed." She has to get that out there, as well. It hadn't been fair, after all, to him or to the lives they both had wanted to lead. So much for that, "And I-- I can't ask you to choose this-- choose me, now. This-- you've got a good plan for things, Ed. Always have. I don't-- want to ruin that for you."

And this will. There's no question of whether or not it will.

"I-- I love you." And it hurts to say it, so much, "But-- maybe it's better like this."