[ Her voice is thick. A choked sob escapes her and she looks away from him to press her face into her pillow, trying to dry some of her tears. It's a futile gesture.
The words she wants to say -- "get out" -- are not what she should say, and she knows it. Still, that ... stings. Even if he only sounds tired and sad. ]
That's what you always say. You get angry and you don't think. [ She smiles again -- why does she keep doing that? ] Are you ever going to stop doing that?
[action; evening of July 17th]
[ Her voice is thick. A choked sob escapes her and she looks away from him to press her face into her pillow, trying to dry some of her tears. It's a futile gesture.
The words she wants to say -- "get out" -- are not what she should say, and she knows it. Still, that ... stings. Even if he only sounds tired and sad. ]
That's what you always say. You get angry and you don't think. [ She smiles again -- why does she keep doing that? ] Are you ever going to stop doing that?