Why?

"Why?" was all she said.

Her voice cut deep and lodged itself into his gut. Inside it just echoed until all he could hear was her voice. It vibrated in his head, in his soul.

"That's what I wanted to ask you," he finally said, "I'd imagine you standing there. I'd ask you 'why,' and imagine a hundred different answers each less satisfying than the last."

She kept her stern face and stance, but her eyes betrayed her, but only for a second. "You have no right," she said, eyes tearful, "No right to ask me anything."

"I have every right."