“It wasn’t what you were thinking, you know.” Jack spoke quietly into the silence as he drove Ianto home from Gwen’s wedding.
“What wasn’t?” Ianto was drowsy from the long day and the champagne.
“My dance with Gwen. It had nothing to do with me fancying her, or regretting that she’d chosen Rhys. I wanted, no, needed her to marry Rhys. It was such a relief to get them both through their wedding in one piece.”
“You’re not entirely making sense. Which isn’t unusual…”
Jack stopped the SUV outside Ianto’s home.
“They don’t marry, I don’t exist. They’re my ancestors.”