Joan feels him relax, hears his breathing deepen and slow. She's awake for a little while longer, holding him and being held, thinking about tomorrow. What is she going to say? How is he going to react? Will he be angry that she looked into it? That she didn't tell him? That she didn't wait for him to tell her? All those would be completely understandable things for him to be angry with her about. This is huge, and she wonders if she should just not say anything after all.

But she's genuinely concerned about him, about him feeling so detached from his own son and with his father's suicide a fact that he will never be free from. She knows he doesn't quit things...but all it takes is one time, one decision, in a moment of guilt or grief or despair. And she wants him to know she's with him.

If he'll still have her.

She stares in the dark for several minutes before she's finally able to relax and join him in sleep.