[He wants to walk over to the bed, sit down next to her and hug her tightly, reassure her that he was the one who was sorry, he was the one who had done everything wrong, that he wasn't angry. But he is, even though he can recognize that it's coming from a place of hurt more than anything else.

He wonders if he should just leave.]

I don't... [He takes a breath, runs a hand through his hair.] I understand why you're upset with me. I do. But I don't understand what I've done that makes you think I'm some sort of manipulative monster.