There was a time when Andy's life was symmetrical.
Wake, work, play, sleep. Repeat.
It was simple. At least, as simple as her life could ever be. All of the residual parental issues, the continual darkness of her job - sure, those remained. But things balanced out, righted themselves.
There was a guy there, too, keeping her company in her newfound routine. He was there when she woke (usually), at work where she worked, at play with her at the Penny, and beside her while she slept.
Each day was like the other, and the good always outweighed the bad.
She's realizing now that he kept her that way. He balanced her out.
She flashes back to the first time they came together: a hot night, her reeling mind, blood on her hands. His steadiness, assuredness, security. She found solace in him then, as ever.
Now here she stands as he comforts her for the same. The one who is like her in so many ways - olive skin tone, dark hair, fierce determination tempered by inherent goodness.
Symmetry.
She fucking hates symmetry.