He spent a few seconds staring at the palms of his hands, undecided.
I don’t want to sound like a know-it-all, but I could guess what he was thinking at that moment, especially with that defeated gesture. I couldn’t get a single word out anyway, and he continued:
“There’s no great science behind it, just a hypersensitivity that’s complicating things. The point is that now that I’m aware of it, I can control it. Knowing or not knowing would never have made a difference for you, because it depends on me in the first place.” He looked at me again and closed his fists on his knees. I finally found the handle and pulled to the side, folding the doors around me. “I know it’s not the best way to express it, but…”
“It’s the most pathetic explanation I’ve ever heard, and that’s saying something,
