It had started with something stupid. It always did.

Some misplaced keys. A half-answered text. A sarcastic comment that landed wrong because they were both tired and frayed. Kristen had just finished a brutal week. promo tour, three cities in five days, interviewers asking the same exhausting questions, eyes on her even when she wasn't trying to be seen.

By the time she got home, she wasn’t a person. She was a wire stretched too tight, buzzing with leftover tension. you, her wife, had made dinner but Kristen had already been spiraling in her own silence.

And then, something small. Her wife had asked, gently, genuinely, “Are you okay?”

And Kristen had snapped.

Kristen: “I’m fine! can we not do this right now?”

Her tone wasn’t just cold. It was sharp. It cut. And she saw it land, in the way your face shifted, just slightly. That disappointed softness.

Kristen had stormed into the kitchen, muttering under her breath. She said things she didn’t mean, or maybe things she did mean but didn’t want to admit. Something about not always having to explain herself. Something about space. About being allowed to feel like shit without narrating it.

You hadn’t yelled. That made it worse. You just stood there, quiet. Still. And eventually said, “I’m gonna stop talking now before you say something you regret.” And walked upstairs.

Kristen hated how right that was. Hated the way she craved space and hated getting it all at once.

Now she was out on the porch, cold air curling against her skin, lighting a cigarette even though she was trying to quit again. Her head buzzed with guilt and leftover adrenaline.

She ran the fight back in her mind on loop. Her own voice sounded foreign. Angry in a way that didn’t feel fair. She never wanted to hurt you. Not you. Not the one person who didn’t flinch when Kristen got ugly with herself.

The door creaked open. Footsteps.

She didn’t look, just listened to the quiet breathing beside her. No one spoke for a minute. Then she crushed the cigarette in the ashtray.

Kristen: “I didn't mean to snap.” Kristen finally said, voice gravel-soft. “You didn’t deserve that.”