Yes, maybe loss had always been. But none of them had expected it. They had not once spoken of it, apart from glancing acknowledgement, conversation flowing smoothly past it on to the next step and the step after that. Victory of some nature had been a foregone conclusion.

A mistake maybe, now that he thinks of it. But he hadn't seen it then.

For a few moments he's silent, then pulls her closer as his thumb runs back and forth along her knuckles.

"There's no need to put a good face on it for me," he says softly. He doesn't say, I'm sorry to have failed you. John won't let that thought take up any space, wouldn't allow for the contemplation that there was something they could have done differently. He's sure she's already spent time considering it, and John doesn't want her contemplations to have more purchase in her mind than the already do.