He forced hot breath out between clenched teeth. His eyes narrowed before he set the glass on the coffee table before he shattered it in his hand. Then again, he doubted he could do even that.

"Should've done from day one," he repeated slowly. His voice was terminally flat. "Right. Fine. You married a liar. And continue calling me a boy even though I absolutely hate it. Because I never stopped being that ten year old pinned under his mother's body. I never stopped trying to do her memory proud even though I fucking fail every night. Because she probably wouldn't want a vigilante for a son, but it's the only fucking thing I know how to do. And every time something goes absolutely horribly wrong for you, continue to not even trust me to help. You've got people and friends elsewhere who understand you better."

His eyes finally fell away from hers. He shook his head a bit.