"Knowing what brought us here, I can't even look at you, much less act like I still love you," she says, her voice sharp, biting, cold. Unforgiving in a way she never was before.

"I did this for you. For us. I did it because I love you," you reply, pathetic, like a cockroach under her heel, small and miserable as she looks at you as if you're a plague.

"I don't think you know what love is at all."