“I knew I loved you when I started making excuses for the way you hurt me,” you whispered, the words heavy with both pain and realization, hugging yourself.

Spencer Reid stood before you in your apartment, his expression a mix of guilt and sorrow. He had always been the logical one, the one who analyzed situations with cold detachment. But when it came to matters of the heart, even his intellect couldn’t shield him from the complexities of emotions.

“You deserve better,” Spencer finally replied, his voice soft yet filled with regret. He knew he had hurt you, unintentionally causing wounds that ran deeper than he could have imagined.

“You don’t get to decide what I deserve,” you retorted, your voice wavering slightly. The hurt lingered, but so did the love that had blossomed unexpectedly between you.

Spencer sighed, running a hand through his tousled hair. “I never meant to hurt you. I just… I don’t always know how to handle this,” he admitted, his vulnerability laid bare.

“And that’s supposed to make it okay?” you countered, your tone edged with frustration. “You can’t keep hurting me and expect me to just accept it.”

“I know,” Spencer said softly, stepping closer to you. “I’m trying to understand… to be better.”

You looked into his eyes, seeing the sincerity there, the struggle between his intellect and his emotions. “Love isn’t supposed to hurt,” you murmured, more to yourself than to him. Silence fell, interrupted by the rain.

Spencer Reid had always been consumed by the demands of his work at the BAU, but lately, his absences had become more frequent and prolonged. He would disappear for days at a time, leaving you bewildered and hurt. Each time he returned, Spencer would cite a pressing BAU case that required his immediate attention, leaving little room for explanation or emotional reassurance.