[She can't help that. Can't help the similarities, or the differences. Easier to accept that now, now that the knee-jerk reactions of self-identity have passed. She knows who she is. She isn't the woman he knew back home. But she is the woman he knows here, and she can be...well, whatever that means. An ear. A voice. A partner. Maybe a friend. Maybe.]

The hero matters, but not the man? That's idealistic of you.