She's not wrong. While he's very good at recognizing the signs of various emotions in other people, for determining when to take the shot or which handler is likely to resort to violence and for what transgressions, there are very few emotions he truly recognizes in himself anymore.

Whatever he's feeling now is overwhelming. It's like something in his chest wants to claw its way out of his ribcage and curl around Yelena like a giant fleshy blanket to hiss at anything that wants to hurt her. (That's gross. And probably something that will happen around here, so let's not bring that image into the world.) What even is that? Is that love?

It doesn't happen, because it would require touching anyway, but the feeling is there. What happens instead is he blinks rapidly as his vision blurs over, and he has to wipe at his cheeks when tears roll down them. "Okay," he says, voice low. A sniff, and then he adds, "You're important, too. Even if I don't have the right feelings."