still no reason to take it out on me

He can’t stand it: Langdon keeps leaning in and King just smiles at him, probably doesn’t even realize he’s flirting. It’s egregious. 

He should pull Langdon aside. Be careful, he should say, You've got enough on your plate. Don't blow everything up over a woman who sees you as a brother at best. But then Langdon would snap at him, make some snarky comment about his extended sabbatical. Because, as much as he wishes otherwise, people don't really change. Not at their core, even when they try. 

By the time they all go around and say what they’re thankful for, Robby has to take a second to swallow down all the bitterness before he can say he’s grateful to be sleeping in his own bed again without sounding like a psycho.

Langdon says he's grateful for his support system. He says he’s lucky to have his friendships. He's looking at King when he says his life has been “greatly, greatly enriched” these past few months. That he's learning to be a better father. A better man.

No better husband. Robby notices, adds it to the tally. 

It’s ridiculous, and no one else seems bothered, which makes him wonder if this is just the new normal since he’s been gone. This is why he shouldn’t have left, he should have been here to make sure Langdon was staying the course. 

The fucker is just so - relaxed. It’s like he doesn’t care, or like he’s not struggling, which is absurd. When he smiles his face looks completely different, like he’s a whole new person.

She’s stopped sobbing, but doesn’t budge from where she’s curled into Frank’s chest. He’s rubbing her back and his hand is so warm through her thin cotton top. Before this happened, she hadn’t even had a chance to do her braid. Some of her hair was wet from her tears and snot.

“What were you going to do with that girl?” She says that girl with as close to vitriol she ever gets, which is flat and short, tension wrought into her words.

She’s so jealous and she knows he can tell. She doesn’t know why, but she felt like her heart was breaking clean in half watching that girl hold her brother’s face from underneath him, pushing aside his sweaty hair, seeing him like that, just the two of them—it wasn’t right. He knew that.

“Francis,” she whines, anxious. “Tell me.”

Frank looks down at her and pulls her head back by her hair. They make eye contact and he smiles, like he’s had an idea.

“I could show you, Mels,” he whispers to her, suddenly nose to nose, hand sliding down her back to her hips, holding her in a way he hasn’t before.