“And I’m assuming this is where the classes come in.”

“Yeah, she asked if I knew what classes she was taking. I didn’t, so I gave her the éclairs as an apology, and apparently, she’s rejected them.”

“Brutal.” He picks up another and heads to the back patio. “Dude, nice TV.”

“Do you even care about what I just told you?”

“Yeah, but it’s not like I can do anything about it.” Banner takes a seat on the outdoor L-shaped couch. “All I can say is that it seems like the plan is working.”

“What do you mean?” I ask, taking a seat as he picks up the remote and turns the TV on.

“I mean, isn’t this what you wanted? To have her slip up here and there for you to learn things, so when it comes to the wedding, you’re prepared and ready?”

I pause and then bring my leg up on the couch. “Huh, I guess that was the plan.”

“So it worked. You got a nugget. She claimed you don’t listen to her, she proved her point by the whole class thing, and now you just need to file that away as information learned and continue to move forward.”

“Yeah, but she only said that to prove a point because she was mad.”

“Exactly. When people are angry, they lower their defenses and try to make the other person feel bad by stating the truth. It’s common in arguments. She let the truth slip when you fought the first night, when she handed you the papers, and just now. She fights with her emotions, not her brain. When she’s calm and collected, she’s guarded, and there’s no way you’re squeezing info out of that vault. So keep pushing her.”

I guess I never thought about it that way.

It makes sense. She locks up her feelings, thanks to her abusive mom. But when she’s upset, to her very soul upset, she lets her guard down, and that’s when the true emotions come out.

“I just don’t get why I’ve got to make her upset to gather information. Can’t I just do nice things for her? Show her that I still love her?”

“That’s all show, man.” He stops on reruns of Boy Meets World. “Sure, you can offer her éclairs and bring her flowers and all that bullshit, but at the end of the day, that’s not getting to the root of the problem, and the root of the problem is in her head. You need to crack that open the only way you know how—when she’s emotional.”

“I guess so,” I mutter. “I don’t like it, though.” I hate seeing her hurting. I promised her I’d never hurt her.

“Yeah, well, going into this marriage, into this relationship, you knew she didn’t function like everyone else. You knew she was carrying a lot of baggage, and you knew the struggles you’d face when it came to communication. As someone who has never been abused, who has never seen the back of a parent’s hand, you can’t comprehend how that individual is supposed to function. They have their own techniques, their own way of walking through this world so they’re not reminded of the distrust they encountered. Is it dysfunctional? One hundred percent, but sometimes you simply meet someone at their own level to get them to open up. There’s nothing wrong with that. It’s called being an understanding human, even if you don’t agree with their approach.”