They have their first fight as a couple a few weeks after moving in together. It's the three month anniversary of his father's death, and the crushing weight of grief has fallen on him again. Gerri has never been very good at dealing with other people's emotions.

"I know it's hard," she says, as he takes a big swig of whiskey. "But drinking and pills won't help."

"Maybe I'll go out and get trampled by protesters again."

"Don't even joke about that."

"Why? It's what I deserve. It's my fault he's dead."

"That's not true, honey."

"If I hadn't left that fucking voicemail—"

"Your father had been struggling with his health for two years. It could have happened any time."

"I fucking killed him. He did everything for me, and I—"

"Roman," Gerri interrupts. "What your father did to you was abuse. He abused you."

Roman looks so stunned, she might as well have told him that Logan was in fact an alien from outer space. "What?" he says finally. "No. That's not — I mean, he lost his temper sometimes, but it wasn't…"

"I was there, Rome," she says. "I saw him knock your tooth out. I hated seeing the way he treated you, and the way you would always go back for more."

"Why would you say this?" He's angry now, his face closed off like when he fired her the second time. "Are you trying to hurt me?"

"No!" She reaches for his face and he jerks away. "I know you loved him. And it's okay to still love him. But you can't go on like this. You have to acknowledge what he did to you."

"You don't know what you're talking about," he says coldly. "Just because you're not close to your kids, you can't understand how I felt about Dad."

She drops her hand. "That's uncalled for."

"You started it," he mutters.

"I'm trying to help you."

"Well, fucking don't, okay?" He slams the glass down and walks away from her.

…

Roman storms down the street in the dark, his hands balled into fists. He's never felt this angry with Gerri before.

Maybe he'll call Tabitha or Brex and see if they want to hook up. Maybe he'll go to a gay bar and fuck a rando. That'll show her.

He comes to a bench and slumps down, staring into the darkness. Gerri's words are still going round in his head.

His father was a great man, wasn't he? He loved them. Gerri doesn't know. She didn't see how he could be with them, outside of a business setting.

He remembers spending an hour in the dentist's chair, after the tooth incident. He remembers — and now he feels a stirring of guilt — that the last thing his father did to him was to get him to fire the woman he loved. Loves.

He wipes his face, then puts his head in his hands. He gets up and slowly starts to walk back to the apartment.

When he arrives home Gerri has already gone to bed. He quietly lets himself into the darkened bedroom and gets into bed without undressing. He reaches out to wrap an arm around Gerri from behind.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, although he's not sure if she's awake.

She turns slightly to smile at him. "Me too."