There must be a fight
Tom rolled his eyes, quickly rubbing his face to hide it from Christine.
"I loved him, Thomas. I loved him so much. It hurt me when I had to say good-bye to him and attend to my Tron missions and assignments. It hurt me when he kissed me good night or whenever his hand let go of mine. That's the only way I can truly describe how much he meant to me. I loved him so much, it hurt. I would have done anything to take away that pain and be with him every second of every day. I loved him so much, I almost hated him."
A ball of sickness grew in Tom's belly. He didn't know why—and he certainly didn't understand all this lovey dovey stuff Christine was talking about—but something about it made him ill. Something about it was obsessive.
"And then it happened," Christine said. "The tragedy that would serve as the turning point of my life, the moment that defined my purpose from that day forward."