Claire snorts and then stands as well, because though she can't read John's mind, they're both thinking the same thing. Grabbing a bottle of whisky, she sits down again heavily, tosses out her tea, and fills the cup nearly to the brim before passing the bottle to the other side of the table. He can have his fill when he's ready, but Claire drinks about half before speaking.

"Jamie says I have a 'glass face.' I've always known it." And so she knows that John is right. It was better for it to come out. "But that doesn't excuse the way Jamie reacted." She's calmer now, less hysterical, and after a few deep breaths in and out, she can't help her next question. It's her life and she figures that she has a right to know.

"Did we share a bed often?"