It happened, Jon. We can argue about it until we're blue in the face, but it's not going to change anything. I made a choice.
No. You don't get to do that. You don't get to pretend like everything is all right and not tell me shit again.
You picked me, Jon. And you kept picking me by not telling me to fuck off the first few times I bothered you after we started in research. Logistics of it all aside.