Nothing in Steve's life had come close to hurting him as it had that day. The pain of knowing that they could have once had a life together, that all the pain they'd both lived through could have been avoided. Steve would never have become Captain America, Bucky never the Winter Soldier, they could have stayed in Brooklyn and simply lived. No one could begin to understand and it seemed Natasha wasn't interested in trying. He'd hardly spoken for a week, not to anyone, like the words stuck in his throat and left him blocked up and alone in his grief.
"You lied to me," Steve said, his voice tense. "Both of you lied to me and it's not my business why, you've got your reasons and I accept that. But I am angry, I'm hurt and I didn't want to put that on you on top of everything. Not when I felt too hurt to be rational, when I didn't want to talk about this with you yet." Because Steve was bad at talking, he made a good speech, a pretty one at times. But talking, really talking? It took time and Steve hated that she didn't know that by now.
His jaw tensed and Steve crossed his arms, the hurt in his eyes but off his face where he kept it plain. "What do you know about what I did, Natasha? You seem to be such an expert, you tell me." There was a bite to his words that Steve didn't like, that he would have used time to tame, when he could have come at this not feeling like he was backed into a corner. But sometimes there was no options left.