Roman sometimes wishes that Gerri didn't still work for Waystar.

He still hates Matsson, still holds him personally responsible for his father's death, although his therapist would say he's projecting, whatever. He's glad to be free of all the bullshit, but he's not really, not when he lives with someone who still has to dance to Matsson's tune.

"Have you thought about finding another job?" he asks one evening, while she's buried in her work on the couch.

She looks up. "Why would I do that?"

"Or, you know, give up working. Be my kept woman." He nudges her with his foot in what he hopes is a charming way.

"I like my job, Roman."

"Uh huh. Sure. But you can't like working this much, surely? Wouldn't you rather have more hours free for Romey time?"

"Where is this coming from?"

"I just, I fucking hate Matsson. And I know it's really Tom you're working for, but he's basically Matsson's puppet, so…"

"Roman, I am not giving up my work for you. You already nearly totalled my career, remember?"

"Yeah, okay." He takes his feet off her lap. "I'm well aware that your career is more important to you than me." He can feel the irrational side of him stirring.

"Don't be a spoiled brat, Roman."

Not even the callback to their first phone sex can mollify him. "I notice you're not denying it."

"My job is important to me. I spent years building my career."

"Yeah, yeah. That's why you sided with Dad in Italy."

"I was a laughing stock after you sent that photo, Roman. I had to be seen to be professional."

"You sure looked professional when I was literally on my knees begging you to help me."

"Oh don't try to make me feel guilty. You fired me, remember?"

"Well you couldn't even give me a hug when I was falling apart in front of you!" His voice is rising, memories of that day rushing back to him in vivid technicolour.

"Then you fired me again!" She's glaring at him, her voice also rising.

He sighs. "Call it even?"

She shakes her head. "What do you actually want from me, Roman?"

"I want you to stop working for that piece of shit and be with me 24 hours a day instead. Is that too much to ask?"

"Uh huh. You really need to grow up." She gathers up her laptop and papers and storms off into the bedroom.

Roman has a feeling he'll be sleeping in one of the spare rooms tonight.