“I’m tired,” she said before he could speak.
“I know.”
“No, you don’t.” She shut the pantry too hard. “You don’t know what it’s like to have every choice tied to survival. You don’t know what it’s like to feel hungry and ashamed at the same time. You don’t know what it’s like to have a doctor say lifestyle as if your life were a menu you had casually selected.”
Taylor stood still. “You’re right.”
The answer disarmed her.
He stepped closer but not too close. “I don’t know what that feels like. But I know what it feels like to watch someone I care about fight a battle I can’t take over, and I know it makes me useless in a way I’m not built for.” His voice stayed level. “So if you want to be angry, be angry. If you want to eat the crackers, eat the crackers. We’re not turning one rough afternoon into a funeral.”
