[And with four, simple words, he deflates her whole argument, Kate's shoulders slumping, her eyes half closing, her arms dropping down into her lap. He did listen to her. He always had. He was probably one of the only people who did.]

I know. [Voice quiet, her lips pressing into a grim line as she finally lifts her gaze to look at him.

A part of her knows, that this conversation spun out of control, not because of him, but because of the five million issues that she has never actually dealt with.]

And - I know it's not up to anyone else. [Them.] But is it really so crazy to want other people to look at us and think it makes sense?