It's just the sort of thing she used to do, the kind of contact she used to crave. Her foot against his calf. Her toes skating across the tops of his bare feet. Her nails on his thigh. A connection. A tease. A moment of happiness.

He almost pulls away but doesn't, not knowing yet if the gesture carries any meaning.

"Still just the two of us," he confirms. "If he knew you were back, I'm sure he'd send his greetings."