Daryl's compassionate act was likely aimed at dissolving some tension; in Carol's mind she can only feel it rising. Telling him her secret wasn't her choice, his being here now wasn't her choice. Sooner or later she'll have to make a one: slip away, or let him in. Guard herself, or chance rejection. Move beyond his reach, or turn into it.

Back home there would be much to complicate it. Rick's decision to put her out and the rest of the group's feelings about allowing her back, the not insignificant fact that being alone is hardly ideal for survival. But in this place it's somehow all the more complicated because there's no life-or-death stake, at least not as immediately. Nothing except whether Carol is willing to take that step, to want it enough. Neither direction feels comfortable, but she must choose one. Move or turn?

He's a good man, he would probably accept her even if he wasn't certain; but if she shows him the door maybe he wouldn't be certain enough to knock. Maybe next time she wouldn't answer. She could go off, find a corner of this place and make it her own, shielded from judgment. Rick said she can survive on her own, and here she most assuredly could. Does she want to? Would being alone hurt more, would it change nothing? Her grip on his hand loosens.

This is impossible. Unfair. No way anyone could be prepared for their world and what it made people do. For a long second Carol just lets herself be unspeakably angry at the wretchedness of it all.

-- And then she shrugs off his touch, and turns to rest her forehead on his shoulder.