Original subtitles

Previously, on Family Law...

I just wanted to see Frank's new girlfriend.

What's her name again? Oh, yeah. Isabelle.

How would you feel about being promoted to equity partner?

Can we keep this between us for now?

Quinn asked me to be the emcee at their wedding.

Could you imagine if you'd said yes?

Daniel, you didn't!

- Why is he always here? - Because he's my boyfriend.

- Ow! - Oh, my God.

Are you okay?

It's an all-inclusive Mexican Riviera cruise.

When the concert's over, text me.

_

Good morning.

So? How was your kid's concert last night?

Predictably awful.

I'm sorry I missed your messages. I've been burning the midnight oil

on this mortgage fraud case, and just fell asleep.

I texted you at 8:30.

You try reading 300 pages of conveyancing documents and staying awake.

Your Honor, I present Exhibit "A"...

the button indentation in my cheek

from falling asleep on my couch.

I'm not satisfied

the prosecution has met the burden of proof.

You can't be the defense and the judge.

Fine.

Maybe... we could enter into a plea bargain over dinner?

Deal.

"Onboard experiences include movies under the stars... "

Oh, a Vegas-style casino.

Oh, there's a "groovy '60s" theme night on the first Saturday.

- Fun. - I'd better pack my bell-bottoms.

Manzanillo's one of the ports-of-call, maybe we can surf.

Yeah.

Who's texting you so early?

Another client who's upset that I canceled last-minute.

I'll just offer to do a Zoom session from the boat.

- You are allowed to take a vacation. - You're right. Okay.

Okay.

Beautiful day, isn't it?

Why are you in such a good mood?

Dad is making me equity partner.

Daniel! That's awesome!

I'm so happy for you.

You have to promise not to tell Abby until it's a done deal.

- Why? - Isn't she the reason

you were made partner in the first place?

She'll find a way to sabotage it.

You're being paranoid, but okay, fine.

So, what'd you get up to last night?

Oh, nothing much. Just hung out at Roz's.

You've been doing that a lot these days.

- Are you two... dating? - No.

She just rented a horror movie and was too afraid to watch it alone.

What movie?

- Ghost. - " Ghost"?

The one with the sexy-times pottery scene?

We're just friends, Winston.

- Did she... cuddle up to you? - She was cold.

It's 24 degrees out. Wake up, Cecil! She's into you.

Mankind invented the word "muffin"

so we can lie to ourselves about eating cake for breakfast.

- I don't know what you mean. - How convenient for your sweet tooth.

Good morning!

Good morning. Naomi and Genzo Hirota.

Here to see Abigail Bianchi.

My therapist, Lucy Svensson, referred us to you.

Ah.

- We need help with some paperwork. - Of course.

Are you... updating your wills? Setting up a trust fund?

No. No, nothing like that.

I want to die.

- Synced and corrected by ChrisKe - -- for www.addic7ed.com --

Naomi was diagnosed with early-onset Alzheimer's

two years ago.

- I'm sorry. - So am I.

I want a medically-assisted death

- when I'm ready. - Okay.

To do that, you'll need to

- submit a written request. - Did it.

And that application will need to be approved

- by two independent practitioners. - Done.

Naomi's already been accepted.

So what do you need me for?

Because of the nature of Alzheimer's,

Naomi requires a waiver of final consent.

I want a lawyer to go through the waiver

with a fine-tooth comb

to ensure I'm not held hostage by administrative B.S.

when I'm ready to pull the trigger... so to speak.

My wife gets an unreasonable amount of joy

from getting her ducks in a row.

Drives our son mad.

Crossing tasks off a "to-do" list is one of life's purest pleasures...

which you would know, if you'd ever made a list.

It's my understanding the waiver of final consent

allows people with conditions like Alzheimer's

to make provisions to end their life in advance,

while they still have decision-making capacity.

Yes, thank goodness.

So why wait to submit it?

When you sign it, you have to set a date for your death.

Naomi's not ready to do that.

But if I wait too long

and I cross the line into mental incapacity,

I won't be allowed to sign the waiver.

The system basically says...

okay, here's a staircase to a torture chamber.

Now, you're allowed to make the decision

to turn back from the chamber any time

and not be tortured, but...

if you cross the line into the torture chamber,

you can never turn back.

Well...

it would be my privilege to review the paperwork

and be your lawyer on record.

I can't believe you roped me into signing off

on a mercy killing.

Naomi is a long-time client.

She's always been clear

she wants to end her life before she loses herself.

Loses herself? She's sharp as a tack!

Well, her intelligence and sense of humor fool people.

The truth is, her condition is deteriorating.

Well, I feel like the Grim Reaper.

If the Grim Reaper was a notary.

I think it's wonderful that people finally have

some agency over their deaths.

One of my dear friends did prison time in the '90s

for helping her gravely-ill husband end his life.

People who help a family member die

can still be criminally charged.

I'm glad to hear that.

I've got too many relatives

motivated to see me six feet under.

Oh, relax, Harry. We wouldn't kill ya.

You'd just come back to haunt us like a bad smell.

Dad's ghost roaming the halls, hovering over his children...

So, exactly like it is now?

All this death talk is ruining my Cobb Salad.

You three.

Ms. Bianchi?

Mr. Bianchi is here to see you.

Send him in.

Hey. What's up?

I was at Vaziri & Roth downstairs, so I figured I'd just drop by.

What do you think

about me taking the kids to Cirque De Lune

- on Thursday night? - It's my week.

No, I know. That's... That's why I'm asking you.

- Oh. - Isabelle won tickets

in a silent auction. Sofia and Nico are dying to see the show,

and you're probably too swamped with work

to have weeknight plans with them.

How do you know I don't have plans?

- Do you? - Not yet.

Whatever your decision is, it's fine.

I just thought I'd ask.

- Okay. All right. Yeah. - Great. Thanks.

Ahem.

Oh.

Don't say anything to the kids. Isabelle wants it to be a surprise.

I can't believe you agreed to emcee Martina's wedding.

I know you hate yourself, but this is next level.

- Want to be my plus-one? - No! I don't want to see

your self-inflicted torture.

There's going to be a five-course meal,

- open bar, hot bridesmaids. - I'm in! I'm a good friend.

So do you like my new patio heater?

I do, but promise me you'll get your handyman in

to secure that gas line.

Trips and falls

are the leading cause of fatal injuries among senior...

Uh! Do not dare say that "S" word.

Among sexy, mature adults.

Nice save.

You know...

I don't have many regrets in my life, Joanne,

but my biggest

is all the years I lost with you.

Harry...

you should have a second martini on an empty stomach more often.

I like this sentimental side.

I'm thinking of selling the penthouse.

Where would you move?

I already spend most nights here.

Are you asking to move in with me?

It makes good sense.

What do you think?

I think... that when I have George come and deal with that cord,

I'm gonna ask for a closet estimate,

because there's no way I'm sharing a walk-in with you.

You're already overbooked.

Offer her an 8:00 p.m. appointment.

Wow, the head-shrinking business must be boomin'.

Kelly and I are going on vacation next week,

so I have to reschedule some clients.

I wish Bowen would take me on a cruise.

I can't understand why anybody would pay money

to be trapped in a floating Petri dish

- in the middle of the ocean. - It was a surprise from Kelly.

Meh, Frank's parents surprised us

with a trip to Italy once.

That's generous!

With them.

I'm still triggered by gondolas.

Naomi. Our appointment isn't until 3:00.

That's not why we're here.

Our son is trying to take away my right to die.

My client has applied for an injunction

to block his mother's access to a medically-assisted death.

Why are you doing this, August?

Mr. Hirota believes that she's rushing an important decision.

You've always said the three of us make family decisions together.

You've completely cut me out of this.

We aren't putting your mother's death to a family vote.

Advancements in Alzheimer's are being made all the time.

They could find a cure.

They could also find a way to colonize Mars,

but neither are happening in my lifetime.

You still garden, enjoy symphonies,

go on walks with your friends.

Your quality of life is good.

I'll be the judge of my quality of life.

Don't you want to live long enough

- to meet your future grandchildren? - I understand

this is emotionally fraught for your client,

but my client has the legal right

to die on her terms.

End of story.

I just don't understand.

He isn't gonna drop this.

It's a waste of resources and my client's time.

She's his mother.

He's not thinking straight.

I can't believe, after all the medical appointments and red tape,

my plans are being sabotaged by my own son.

It's scary to imagine a world without your mom in it.

August has always struggled with mortality.

When he was seven, his pet salamander died.

He kept Mr. Mango in the freezer for a year

because he didn't want to part with him.

What would you tell August if he were here right now?

Naomi?

You were telling me about August.

- August? Yes. - Your son.

Did I ever tell you, when he was seven,

his pet salamander died.

He kept the thing in the freezer for a year.

I read your amendments on the partnership agreement.

You added a clause

that contractually obliges me to retire in three years?

- Five... and we have a deal. - Seriously?

Danny, one day, you'll realize

there are more important things in life than work.

I'll have Jerri revise the contract and we'll sign it next week.

And now, if you'll excuse me,

Joanne and I are going out on her friend's yacht.

She bought me a snazzy new boating blazer.

- Jerri. - Yeah?

I finished my moral inventory and I'm ready to share it.

Congratulations, Abby.

- How about Friday, before work? - Done!

- Hi. - Hiya, sweetheart!

I'm here to collect Harry.

And while I have you, I might as well let you know...

your father's moving in with me.

Congratulations.

No snide remarks?

Cautionary tales?

- Rehashing of childhood traumas? - No.

At least he's the devil you know.

Abby... Naomi's window to get her waiver of final consent

is closing faster than we thought.

I was hoping August would come to his senses

- and stop this. - So was I.

We're scheduled in court at 10:00 a.m. tomorrow.

You didn't come all this way to tell us that in person.

Naomi, I noticed

decreased cognition in our session.

I saw the alarm in your eyes today,

and I thought, "Uh-oh,

I don't know who's at the wheel of my noggin,

- but it's not me." - Please stop.

Genzo... this is the reality.

No use sugar-coating it.

I'm concerned that your condition

is deteriorating faster than expected.

So... what say the sisters?

Assuming I get August's application dismissed tomorrow...

We think you may want to get the waiver of final consent

sooner rather than later.

I'll make a fresh pot.

When Genzo and I bought this place,

we vowed we were gonna live beautiful lives here,

and then die beautiful deaths here.

Joked that we'd end it all

with a barbiturate and whiskey cocktail,

in a little grove that's tucked at the back of the property,

listening to Bach's "Prelude No. 1".

Back when we were so young

that the concept of death

was abstract enough to be romantic. Ha!

I'll think on a death date.

Mom, can we bike to Granville Island

to get a Lee's Donut?

That's very specific.

It's what we do with Isabelle

on Tuesdays before Dad gets home from work.

I wish I could,

but... I have to prep for court tomorrow.

- What's the case? - Ah, well...

My client is very sick and suffering,

and she...

wants to pass on,

but her son is having trouble understanding that.

The kid doesn't want his mom to die,

but she's going to off herself anyway.

You want her to kill herself?

It's... complicated.

I'll make the bike ride up to you. Tomorrow night,

we are going to do

a super-special family activity.

What is it?

It's a surprise.

By "surprise", she means she has no idea.

Winston? Cecil?

I'm headed to court,

but I need you to find me a super-special family activity

- I can do with my kids tonight, pronto. - On it.

Don't you think it's weird

you keep asking us for ideas when neither of us have kids?

VanDusen Botanical Garden?

If there's one thing I know about teens,

it's that they love a good perennial.

Capilano Suspension Bridge?

But they lose it for bridges!

Cirque De Lune?

Ah, that'd be great, but...

Never mind. Only tickets left are VIP experience...

backstage access, 1,200 bucks a pop.

That would be a night for the ages.

Book three seats.

Your Honor, we're asking the court to dismiss

Mr. Hirota's application.

The health authorities have a thorough screening process,

which my client has already passed.

Her application was approved by two independent physicians.

Seems pretty cut-and-dried to me.

Your Honor, we have new evidence

to support our claim.

What Ms. Bianchi is conveniently omitting

is that Ms. Hirota's application was denied

by her family physician of 23 years.

It was also denied by the second physician she applied to,

and the third.

In fact, Ms. Hirota went on a doctor-shopping spree.

Subpoenaed medical records show she tailored her story

to conceal a history of depression.

She gamed the system to get the answer she wanted.

We are now seeking a declaration

that Ms. Hirota does not, in fact,

meet the requirements for medical assistance in dying at all.

Why did your family doctor deny your request?

He said euthanasia wasn't "compatible"

with the Hippocratic oath.

And the second and third doctors?

When I go in and I'm having a good day, my words aren't enough.

They want to see that I'm unwell.

My wife is too eloquent for her own good.

I refuse to do the song and dance.

And physicians are reluctant to sign off on assisted death,

especially for a new patient.

Do you suffer from depression, Naomi?

I felt despondent in the few years preceding my diagnosis,

but it has nothing to do with this.

Did you lie about it?

Of course, I did.

And I resent that I had to,

to get some stranger to grant me permission

to make a decision about my own body.

This complicates things...

but we'll fight it.

Fight it quickly, please.

Talked to Heather today.

She's champing at the bit to list the penthouse.

You're not wasting any time.

I've done enough of that.

To the next chapter.

Ugh! Dear God, what is this?

"Sparkling wine"?

We drank it the night we moved into our very first place together.

Oh.

Our beach shack.

We were so poor then.

We had two bowls and we just had to keep washing them.

Do you remember we would eat baguettes

with butter and blackberry jam for dinner?

To be fair, that may have had more to do with your aversion to cooking

than our financial status.

I don't think the stove even worked.

Did you ever try turning it on?

Do you remember that fabulous summer solstice party?

Oh, when half your firm showed up?

It was so bloody hot that day.

At some point, you decided to do away with your clothes.

- You were horrified. - Most of the party followed suit.

Boaters must've thought they stumbled on a nudist colony.

We all ran into the ocean to cool off together.

And then, at sunset, we built that bonfire on the beach.

Al pulled out his guitar...

Yes, and we sang "Dance Me to the End of Love".

- I-It was a great night. - It was.

Until...

I walked in on you and Luna in the bathroom.

Was... Was that that party?

How did that fire-breather not burn his face off?

That was insane!

- Was that your favourite part? - Yeah.

And when the acrobats did flips on bamboo sticks.

And when that clown farted and blamed it on you!

Okay, to be clear, it was the clown.

- What about you, Sof? - Meeting the trapeze artist.

- You just liked his muscles. - And his artistry.

That was the best show I've seen in my entire life.

I have to admit,

you really pulled through

with the super-special family activity, Mom.

So where do you think

Dad and Isabelle are taking us tomorrow night?

Dr. Svensson,

how long has Ms. Hirota been a client of yours?

Four years.

How would you describe her personality?

She is fiercely intelligent, self-aware... funny.

When did you diagnose Ms. Hirota with depression?

- Two years ago. - What do you attribute it to?

Objection! Dr. Svensson is not a medical doctor.

Dr. Svensson has expertise in Alzheimer's.

It is entirely appropriate she respond to this question.

Overruled.

I believe it was a precursor to her Alzheimer's disease.

So it could be viewed as an early stage of her disease

and not as a mood disorder, in this case?

- Yes. - Do you believe

Naomi Hirota should have access

to medical assistance in dying?

I do.

Thank you, Dr. Svensson. Counsel rests.

Court is adjourned until 4:00.

I'll have a decision by then.

Winston!

Roz just texted...

do I want to come over tonight to watch 9 1/2 Weeks.

- Oh, wow! - What do I do?

What do you want to do?

- Roz. - Okay.

What's your underwear situation?

They have little candy canes on them.

You need to buy new underwear immediately.

And not tighty whities!

- How was Cirque? - Awesome! They loved it. I'm a hero.

- I'm glad those tickets worked out. - Sofia just tagged me.

If Frank calls or shows up, I'm unavailable.

- Okay. You're welcome! - I need you to watch Craig for a bit.

Your whole family under-appreciates me,

but you appreciate me, don't you, Craig?

Yes, you do! Yes, you do.

After the wedding, we'll serve dinner.

We'll get you to introduce Martina's family,

then my family, then do your emcee speech.

About that... I got a couple of questions,

for stuff I can fold into the speech.

Dan, my man, bringing his "A" game.

Always.

First question... how did you two meet?

In a bar.

In Montreal.

See, Martina caught my eye when she ate the worm

- at the bottom of a tequila bottle. - Gross.

- Thank you. - And then announced to the bar

that it tasted like drunk chicken,

and proceeded to do a little drunk-chicken dance.

We spent the whole night talking and laughing.

When the bar closed, we walked all over the city.

As we watched the sun rise,

I realized I'd never felt more like my true self

than with this goofy, worm-eating woman.

I'd already fallen madly in love with her.

Lucky me, I get to spend the rest of my life with her.

That's beautiful, man.

Next question.

Ms. Bianchi?

We've got a consult.

She specifically asked for you.

Hmm.

Put her in the boardroom.

Hello, Abby.

- What are you doing here? - I wanted to talk to you one-on-one.

There's... clearly been some friction between us.

I don't know how there could be any friction between us.

I don't even know you.

You sabotaged our evening with the kids.

My kids.

I understand

how my presence in Sofia and Nico's lives

might make you feel vulnerable,

but I could never replace you, nor would I want to.

I'm just really hoping we can find a way to... be on better terms.

Mm.

Really is audacious of you to presume you know anything about me,

or how I feel.

I... I didn't mean to overstep at all.

If you'll excuse me, I'm due back in court.

You can pay for this "consult"

at reception on your way out.

Oh, and heads up...

I'm expensive.

Should Ms. Hirota have lied about her medical history?

No. But it's ridiculous to think that a bout of the blues

should be held against her.

As I get on in years,

I take solace in knowing

that I don't have to suffer needlessly

at the end of my life.

You may not understand your mother's choice,

but...

it's her choice to make.

I'm dismissing your application.

All rise!

Now you're free...

to book your appointment for the waiver of final consent.

We have it scheduled for 9:00 a.m. tomorrow.

You weren't kidding about lining up those ducks.

August?

You know I would love nothing more

than to meet my future grandchildren.

But, at that point, not only will I not know who they are,

I won't know who you are.

But I'll know who you are.

August!

Mm.

He just needs time.

The one thing I can't give him.

Okay.

_

Craig, do you think I hate myself?

Come on.

- Martina? - Hey.

- Do you have time for a short chat? - Sure.

- So what's up? - I can't do this.

I can't be the emcee at your wedding.

Then why did you say you'd do it?

Because Quinn asked me and he's my friend.

What choice did I have?

To not befriend my boyfriend in the first place!

I'm sorry.

I understand.

I just have to figure out what I'm gonna say to Quinn.

I can say you had to leave town for a family emergency.

What if I run into him?

You got the Norwalk virus.

He'll show up at my doorstep with ginger

ale because he's that good of a guy.

You backed out because you are scared of public speaking.

I'm a lawyer, Martina!

Never mind. I'll just do it.

- You don't have to, Daniel. - No.

I made a commitment.

I can suck it up for one night.

After that, we never have to see each other again.

Do you want to... sample some wedding cake?

So, I convinced my mother

the bathroom smells this way

because a skunk climbed into the window.

She did not believe you!

She called pest control!

Oh, my god!

So...

I'm standing there, so high,

trying to act normal

while my mom tells this guy from pest control

how a skunk sprayed in the bathroom,

but weird, the smell is pretty much gone now.

Bless your mother's heart.

The guy is staring right at me, like, "Uh-huh."

- Pest control has your number. - But he covers for me.

Convinces my mom

it must've been a baby skunk with short-acting spray.

On the way out, he warns me

to enjoy "baby skunks" responsibly.

Craig, you okay?

He doesn't look so hot.

Do you think he got into the chocolate cake?

Chocolate is toxic to dogs.

Okay. Okay, okay, okay.

He's been in there for hours.

Do you think that's a bad sign?

No.

How did he get into the cake?

How did I not notice? Why wasn't I watching?

Daniel, listen to me.

Accidents happen.

You're a good dog dad.

Craig's gonna be fine.

Okay?

Okay.

Thank you.

You can go.

I'm not going anywhere.

Do you think...

it's possible to love two people at the same time?

Heather says she's getting her photographer in tomorrow.

She thinks we can have the penthouse on the market by Monday.

Amazing.

Oh.

Who's that?

Daniel. I'll see him in the office.

I'm going to make myself another latte. Would you like one?

- I'm good. - Mm.

- How's Naomi today? - She's nervous.

I'm going to give you three words to remember...

pineapple,

sunrise,

chair.

Got it?

Yes.

Now I want you to draw a clock on this piece of paper.

All right.

Now set the hands to ten-past nine.

We can come back to the clock at the end.

Can you repeat back

the three words I asked you to remember?

Chair...

She would have passed with flying colours yesterday.

Chair, pear... something. Come on. I don't remember the words.

She barely slept last night.

I've never seen her this bad before.

It's possible Naomi is experiencing delirium.

Which is what, in this context?

An abrupt change in mental status.

Dementia sufferers are susceptible.

It presents as acute confusion, usually brought on by stress.

Any unusual stressors

in Naomi's life the last few days?

Her son taking her to court.

That would do it.

Can you take that into account?

This woman can't seriously have her autonomy taken away

because she had a bad day.

Just...

stamp it.

I can't sign her waiver of final consent.

Not today.

I'm sorry.

Delirium is usually temporary.

Hopefully, Naomi will spring back

to her previous level of cognitive function,

or something close.

You can try again.

Good luck.

You know, my wife has no fear of dying.

Her only fear was ending up a vegetable.

All her damn ducks lined up... here we are anyway.

Thank God.

Mr. Craig did great.

The vet had to sedate him to pump his stomach,

- so he'll be a bit dopey. - Thank you.

Good boy!

You scared me!

Dopey little scrinch.

Thanks for sticking with me.

Where else would I have been?

Guess I'll see you at the wedding.

Goodbye... Martina.

Bye.

I'd block off three hours, to be safe.

Retired lawyers love a three-martini lunch.

You're late!

Apologies.

I had a long... night.

Walk of shame, baby!

It's not a walk of shame

when you're strutting in like a peacock, Cecil.

Apologies for the crumpled attire, Ms. Bianchi.

I spent the night at milady's.

- Who's this "milady"? - Hello, Cecil.

- You forgot your mouthguard. - Oh! Thank you.

May I offer you a juice box for your troubles?

- Oh, you may! - Right this way.

Hi, Roz.

Mr. Hirota, I can't speak to you without your lawyer present.

My mother left me a voicemail an hour ago.

It was a goodbye.

I accept her decision.

I'm not trying to stop her.

I went by the house, but they aren't there.

She can't die not knowing how much I love her.

And what an incredible mother she was.

So, please, do you have any idea where she is?

I just need to see her one more time.

Mom!

- August? - It's okay.

I'm so sorry.

I want to be with you for this...

to say goodbye.

I'm so glad you're here.

Me too.

I never saw you here.

I never saw him here.

Thank you.

It was an honor to know you.

Likewise.

Hey!

- Hi. - Hi.

How was your day?

Put a murderer away for life. Yours?

I helped a woman kill herself.

That lines up.

Oh, and I had a one-on-one with Isabelle yesterday.

She booked a consult

to try to trap me in a touchy-feely conversation.

- Wow. - Yeah! Isn't that sneaky?

I mean...

not as sneaky as taking your kids

for a VIP Cirque experience the night before

she's taking them to see it in the nosebleeds,

but yes.

I don't know that I enjoy your perspective.

You have no idea how good you've got it.

The men that my mother used to date? Yowza.

We have that "yowza" in common.

Seriously, though. Your ex is dating a woman

who is genuinely invested in your kids

and holds no ill will towards you.

You hit the jackpot.

Hi.

Should I be scared right now?

Because I do have a trowel.

I come in peace.

Here. This is for you. It's a refund for your consultation.

- We didn't do the full hour, so. - I appreciate it.

You weren't kidding.

You are expensive.

I'm sorry for the stunt.

I... I really shouldn't have come to your work.

- That was... - Okay.

Can you not take the high road right now?

I'm trying to do a thing.

I also came here to say that there...

might be some merit to what you said.

I might be open to the idea of being on better terms.

Do you want to come in for a cup of tea?

Uh... I think that's probably enough term-bettering for one day.

Okay.

Hey, how did you know where I live?

Heather says the photos of the penthouse are terrific.

She anticipates a bidding war.

We should think on how we want to spend the spoils.

I-I've always wanted to ride The Orient Express.

I don't think I can do this, Harry.

- The Orient Express? - No.

I don't have to sell the penthouse, if that's that what...

I think that we need to end this.

Where is this coming from?

Isn't everything perfect between us?

It is.

But I can't stop waiting for when it isn't...

or when I find you in the bathroom with a "Luna".

That was a lifetime ago, Joanne!

I have been completely faithful.

I believe you.

But that doesn't change the fact

that the deeper in we get,

the more scared I get

that you'll leave me.

But you-you're catastrophizing!

- I'm not going anywhere. - That isn't the point.

I despise this version of myself.

This woman who gets jealous

when Zina comes into the office,

or when I see you talking to Linda at my housewarming.

I was being polite to your friend.

Do you think enjoyed hearing about her intermittent fasting?

I hated that feeling then...

and I hate it now.

I don't want to be that person

ever again.

So...

don't be her.

I love you, Harry...

but I have to end this relationship now,

on my terms.

- Synced and corrected by ChrisKe - -- for www.addic7ed.com --