"If I didn't want you to stay, I wouldn't have thrown a fucking root vegetable at your head," Veronica bites out, finding it difficult to keep shouting when he looks so defeated, like a dog she's kicked into submission.
He says he doesn't want to be better, but she's looking at him, and she can't believe that's true. All this time, he could have just walked away, he could have left her here with her confusion and anger and wrapped himself in whatever self-righteous bullshit he uses to keep himself warm at night. But he didn't.
She's seen the face of someone who doesn't want to be better, and this isn't it.
"You have to do better, Frank," she finally says. Her throat feels sore from yelling. "Right now, here. In this insane place. For me. Because Iā" Her voice hitches, her face crumpling before she can catch herself and pull it back into something less anguished. "I need you. Get it?"
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He says he doesn't want to be better, but she's looking at him, and she can't believe that's true. All this time, he could have just walked away, he could have left her here with her confusion and anger and wrapped himself in whatever self-righteous bullshit he uses to keep himself warm at night. But he didn't.
She's seen the face of someone who doesn't want to be better, and this isn't it.
"You have to do better, Frank," she finally says. Her throat feels sore from yelling. "Right now, here. In this insane place. For me. Because Iā" Her voice hitches, her face crumpling before she can catch herself and pull it back into something less anguished. "I need you. Get it?"