He hesitates. He doesn’t mean to hesitate. He’s emotionally exhausted and unraveled and weirdly let down around the things he readied himself to argue about, and feels a bone-deep weariness at the idea that he made what he thought was the right choice and managed to be a disappointment yet again. He hesitates, because for him, in this power structure, it means sit down so I can tell you exactly how ashamed you should be.

But if he still leaves, it’s rejecting Malcolm. Again.

“Yeah,” Neal says softly. “Okay.”