She still remembers the first time an argument with him turned ugly. They had disagreed before, of course, small things, easily smoothed over. But this was different. She had brought up something that mattered to her, something she had been holding in her chest for weeks. She had rehearsed the words. She had chosen her moment carefully. And he had responded not with curiosity or concern, but with a cold, sharp counterattack. He brought up something she had done months ago, something she had already apologized for, something she thought was settled. He used it against her like a weapon. And when she tried to bring the conversation back to the original issue, he told her she was too sensitive, that she always had to be right, that she could never let anything go.