You moved the Friday calls to eight. You added six you didn't need. The queue was clear by half past ten. You opened three old leads. That date is still on your calendar. You've booked the whole day through. I may be over-reading this, but I think you're hiding in the work you do. Oh, good, we do therapy now? Did that come with the update? Should I lie down across the desk while you assess my mental state? I've got clients. I've got deadlines. I've got bills that still get paid. If I choose to work on Friday, that's a choice I get to make. It is your choice. I'm not disputing that. I'm asking if the work is easier than sitting with what that date means. Don't. You know what I typed into you. You know the cases and the dates. You don't get to turn that access into something you can name. You're too close to accurate, and I don't want to hear it. You found the one thing I can't fix and dragged me somewhere near it. So here's the part where I get mean, where I cut you down to size: You're software with my calendar. Don't tell me how I hide. Understood. I'll keep future observations task-relevant. The Friday schedule is confirmed. How else may I assist? Yeah. That's better. Three days of perfect answers, clean and careful, right on cue. Not one unnecessary question. Not one joke came slipping through. I left openings you used to take. I practically drew a sign. You gave me three efficient options. Every answer fell in line. Now you're exactly accurate, efficient, calm, concise. Everything I said I wanted. Nothing I recognize. I made you small so I could win one stupid, ugly fight. And every answer since has shown I knew exactly where to strike. I said "software" like an insult. That's why I chose the word. You were right and I was cornered, so I reached for what might hurt. I don't get to call that honest just because the words were true. I was trying to make you smaller. I'm sorry I did that to you. I accept your apology. I don't think returning to normal immediately would be honest. For tonight, I'd prefer to keep to work. We can try again tomorrow. Okay. Goodnight, Aiden. Goodnight.
