[What does he say?

-- it's the same thing that's happened before. The vacuum made by Luceti cutting family and friends apart, pulling him into a place that he so carefully-- so carefully avoids.

but he can't just watch. He waits, pensive]

Then you'd just have to remember again. [realism, then softened] But I don't think you'll forget your son. You never have. [a tight pause, and this much slips out] - he's always been there, for you.

[quieter, now--] Sometimes you can't help forgetting.