When Gingerbread offers him a moment's distraction, Roland thinks carefully on Riza's words. To a man who spent the best years of his life learning to expect a threat in unexpected places, it's unnerving to hear that his wife had been listening so closely, as though she were an assassin embedded in his own home. He supposed it wasn't out of the question, but there was no sense to do that now - not when he were just a mere aspiring Senator. Forcing the thought from his mind, Roland returns to putting away the groceries. How could he think such horrible things of his wife when she had graced him with a smile?

At the accidental touch, he remembers that he might have gently taken his first wife's hand and leaned in for a kiss, but refrains here. "I'd love some, thank you. Whatever you'd like." He is so desperate to wring some sort of joy out of their relationship, just learning what kind of tea would satisfy her would be enough.