"Because I'm not you." It isn't exactly what Eduardo means to say — he was going to get around to something to that extent, of course, but not quite in those words, not so soon — but there's no taking them back now, and he probably wouldn't even if he could. Maybe it's just the sort of thing that needs to be said. Mark's screwed him over, fucked his whole life up, and yet Eduardo still has an innate sense of loyalty, the feelings manifested from two years of friendship not anything he can turn off so easily, however much he may want to. (If he were able, he thinks, he might be a whole lot better off, and certainly not so conflicted right about now.) If Mark leaves, he sure as hell won't stop him, but otherwise, until someone better comes along, he has to take care of this, because he just can't fathom doing otherwise.

Letting Mark's words sink in, he exhales slowly, an attempt at maintaining some composure more so than anything else. He can't flip out like he did in Palo Alto again, mostly because he isn't sure he could handle it, though he has no intention of telling Mark as much. It had felt damn good in the moment, and he wouldn't have had it any other way, needed to finally stand up for himself, but it was draining, too, an exhaustion that he feels again now, facing Mark like this. "And that's exactly what it is, as far as I've been told," he continues, in a tone remarkably dissimilar to his from several seconds ago. "People show up from different times, different places. I definitely hadn't hired a lawyer yet; I'd only just found out." He doesn't think Mark will need any more specifics than that. "There are about 250 people here, but none of them here, right now, so..."