Tim made a noise. Something that might have been a chuckle, except it was broken and pained in a way that suggested it could just as easily be a barely caught sob.

"I don't know why I'm doing this either," he admitted, turning to set the lavender back down on the backpack. "You told me it would be rough, messy and I thought ..." Tim took a deep breath and scrubbed at his face with his hands. "I don't ... I mean at the time all I wanted was to support you." Tim's mouth worked, as if he was going to say more but kept swallowing back his own words and just sighed. "And I'm not doing a very good job of it."

He dropped his hands and went to look out one of the windows, staring out at the ocean view beyond.

"Maybe something about Neal being angry with me, about someone outside you, Malcolm and I being angry at me, made me realize that I should have managed my initial jealousy better. Not brought everything to a head like what happened, when I realized how important you and Malcolm were to one another."

Raylan might see Tim's retreat as the younger man punishing him. Tim saw the self exile as punishment for himself.