It isn't pure magnanimity that gives him some leniency to be angry, to lash out. It isn't only her desire to face her sins either. Simply put, she misses him terribly. She's not totally alone in life now, but no one else is Mulder. It's hard not being able to turn to him and invoke some strange ancient memory, remember the time in the volcano, that time in the woods, that terrible turbulence flying to Texas, remember that small town we stayed in for a month before the cops drove by three nights in a row and we bolted? No one else understands the things she's experienced like he does, and without that history she can't help holding people at arm's length.

Ironic then that she's trying to keep him close but at a distance. But the truth is that while being cut off from him is probably healthier than being together was, it isn't much easier. Maybe they can have a healthy friendship.

"There's not much to tell," she admits. "Mostly work. I was thinking about adopting a dog but I'm not home enough. But... we can check in, once in a while."

It might make things hard for her, to have more frequent reminders. But she already left. How much worse could it be?