Grief

He took a step towards her, his movements slow and deliberate, his eyes never leaving hers. He was a storm cloud, gathering force, ready to unleash his fury.

"Ramsey, please," she pleaded, her voice trembling. "Let's talk."

"Talk?" he scoffed, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "What is there to talk about? When it seems like you have forgotten everythimg!"

He slammed his fist on the counter, the sound echoing through the silent house. She recoils, her eyes widening in shock.

"Ramsey, it's not like that," she says quickly, her voice strained. "You have to understand."

"Understand?" Ramsey spits, his voice rising. "How can I understand, when all I see is you making more mistakes? Tell me robin how the hell can i understand—"

He broke off, his voice cracking with emotion.

She twists her fingers anxiously, trying to figure out a way to calm the situation.

It seems like she'll have to go with honesty.