Still not good enough

He was chagrined to offer what he knew to be platitudes and creaking support that could bear little weight. He tried to be a rock, but was little more than sand. And always there was the conflict, the tearing of his mind, the gap between her and him, but not him. Contact was searing. He thought of retribution, of payment to be extracted, of a lifelong price. He thought that she thought of contradictions. He couldn't understand what had been scum-like behavior in another, was now, misunderstanding.