She shakes her head again -- helplessly, because that's not what she meant, but she can't force the words she wants to say.

I don't know how to be with you without thinking about it, right now. I don't know how to forgive myself. I don't know how I can stop it from happening again. Oh, god, what if it happens again?

Her fingers press hard into the floor, knuckles and nails white (even against the already wan pallor of her flesh).