It's not like being dumbstruck by lightning. It's like simply shifting his arm to let the blow find his ribs, allowing it to land; he feels both gutted, and unsurprised. Because of course she did. Severus is quiet. His mouth tastes bitter, and he knows it's a psychosomatic response to the sudden desire to say something awful about it all, swallowed back by a better sense.

He is trying. To be better.

(Severus did not go to Lily in this life just like he did not go to her in another; he has gone to Dumbledore in both, I don't know what to do, he wants to recruit her, he thinks to use me, I can't, I can't—)

"The pan broke."

Sure, he'll go to the park with Lily Evans. Like they're friends. Anyway, his horrible father broke your casserole dish and it was too much to stay for another second to mend it, that's why he's here in the cookery aisle like a jackass.