[ Things had been okay. Not great, but okay. They'd been on track to get to the river without talking about any of this, like she asked for, but he just had to try to go one step further.

He wants to kick the robot, or throw the wrench. He wants to sink into a crouch and breathe into his knees. He wants to go back in time half an hour or two years, and he wants a cigarette, and he doesn't want to talk about this. He doesn't want to hurt her, and he always ends up hurting her when he opens his stupid fucking mouth.

But she asked, and he doesn't want to keep lying to her, either.

Krouse steps back from the robot and squares up his shoulders. ]

I was going to say. [ He shakes his head slightly, like a dog with a wet muzzle. ] It's not like you started being angry after this happened, is it?

[ It's hard to make himself look at her now. He does it anyway, fixed calm bolted to his face like he tightened it on with the wrench dangling from his hand, his dark eyes punctures of resignation. He doesn't say it like a question at all. ]

This just made it harder for everybody to keep pretending you weren't. And it's not like we - like I didn't give you a lot to be fucking upset about. Or like you didn't tell me about it, when I did. I just -

[ He scrubs at his face with his free hand, crumpling his eyes shut. ]

It made you so scared, getting mad. Even when you were right. Especially when you were right.

[ Like she is right now, curling in on herself until it makes her small, no matter how big she is. ]