He crouches beside her, his hand slipping into her hair. His voice is quiet when he speaks, but it's a frosty calm. A dangerous calm.

"I think it's more about what you want, Legs. What I want... oh, what I want. You want to know what I want?" His hand moves a little heavier through her hair. "I want to know why you want to stay married to someone when your mind is always on someone else. It doesn't make much sense, does it?"