It's not about how bad it is, it's about caring for you, do you understand that? I may be white noise in your head, but you're not in mine! Telling me doesn't mean fussing if you're alright, it just means knowing. If I hid anything from you, God you'd be so angry.

[ Clara really doesn't know how to explain it another way. She's already told him once that she loves him, and she stops short of saying it again. Instead, she closes her eyes; when she opens them again, she's looking down at the soufflé. ]

Let's just go. I guess it doesn't really matter.