Steve breathed slowly and deeply, letting his thoughts settle and shy away once again from the pain. He would survive, he knew; he would go on, and he would thrive, and he would be happy. But there would always be days where he mourned the life he'd lost, and he'd wanted to explain that to Rogue, to prepare her.

He hadn't wanted her to cry, but when she did, he pulled her tighter against him, and it actually helped. He never wanted to see her in pain, but when she was, it gave him something else to focus on, and let his own sadness be pushed to the back of his mind.

Leaning forward, he pressed slow kisses against her hair. "I love you," he murmured. "And I never want you to doubt it. But I will always love Peggy... and I'm sure you understand that." He knew it had to be the same for her late husband, and he understood that. He was hoping that together, they could build something that wouldn't eclipse that love, but would dull the sharp edges that still cut into them, so that it became something they could reminisce about, with sadness, yes, but not so much longing for things that couldn't be changed.