"Because when I left, you knew how to make a bloody decision," he snapped, dropping his arm from around her waist. Who was this woman? When he'd left, she'd been... different. Now? Daphne didn't think she could make a decision without the help from a guy. And that, for whatever reason, pissed him the bloody fuck off. She was so fucking docile and just accepting of shite and didn't seem to want to change any of it. He waved to the bartender for another drink. He was going to need it.
Glancing down at her, he shook his head, brow raised. "Right," he said, even though she did have a point. He did want more time but he wasn't going to die if he didn't have it. Clint just thought she could use little bit of a break and just get to have fun. "Fine," he said, annoyed, grabbing his drink. "More time it is. We'll re-discuss this is a few months and perhaps in a few years will get married." He nodded. "Sounds like a bloody plan to me." His eyes flickered to her. "Gives you plenty of time to change your mind and who knows? Maybe you'll find someone else you'd rather be married to."