He's not sure how much more honesty he can take. He's feeling raw, scooped out inside, feelings he knows mean he's close to the edge of how much he can handle in general before he needs to just be away from people for a little while.

Neal forces himself to drink some of his cold-but-not-cold-enough-to-be-refreshing tea, hoping it will make his throat feel a little less squeezed.

"Jealousy. Fear. Worry." The thought that Lark might decide to bring Will in too, and then Malcolm will have no reason to keep ties to anyone outside.