It's one of the first times that she's actually acknowledged - mindfully, completely acknowledged - that she's taking Spencer's support. She asked for it, he gave it, she has it, and it's okay, because he's here. He's here and she's not alone; he says the exact right thing, the correct thing, and it's what she desperately needs to hear.

There's something about being by yourself; you know you're the only one you can count on. You don't reach out as much because there's no point, but something's changed with Raleigh. It's been shifting for weeks, it's been since the cruise that she's starting to not only get her feet under her, but to figure out where she fits in the world, with Spencer and Joel, with her family, now - all of it.

So right now, she cries and it's okay, because she's overwhelmed and scared and this was one of the hardest things she's done emotionally; when she finally rests her forehead on his shoulder, when she's gotten ahold of herself enough so that she can really talk, she takes a deep breath. "I don't want to leave. I don't. There's nothing for me back home, and I'm- I'm happy, mostly. I just- I hurt her so much?" It's a question because she doesn't know what to do about it.

There's a feeling that she needs to make it right, somehow. She pulls back from Spencer so she can look at him, and her eyes are red-rimmed and puffy, still damp as she sniffles once. "I'm scared, Spencer. I don't want to go back home, but how can I tell her that I have a new here, and it's better than it was with her? She thought I was dead." She's twisting her hands together without actually thinking about it and it's an almost perfect representation of how she's feeling, her fingers reddening from the pressure.