All language subtitles for Bull.2016.S03E06.Fool.Me.Twice.HDTV.x264-KILLERS-eng

There is nothing more cruel than having

the most beautiful woman in New York

sitting at one of your tables,

and not being able to sit down
and eat with her.

Well, don't let me keep you.

Ha ha.

Dinner?

Absurd, divine.

Did you ask Chef Johnny to do that?

- Do what?
- Make the agnolotti.

From our wedding.

It was so good, I got a little teary.

Took me right back to that night.

That perfect night.

Thank Chef for me?

I got a better idea.

- I need three bluefins fired, now.
- Yes, Chef!

Looking good;

- Where are we at on that sauce?
- Working, Chef!

- Danny, where are we at on that sauce?
- Working, Chef.

All right. Looking good, Tom.

Johnny.

You guys good?

We got about 300 more
on the books before 1000.

We're rocking and rolling,
jamming it out.

I just wanted to say thank you
for such a beautiful dinner.

I don't know how you had
the time to make that pasta

with all this going on.

You kidding? I love making that dish.

I don't want to keep you.

I just wanted to say
how appreciative I am.

My pleasure.

Ooh, that smells good! Let's keep going!

You sure you don't want dessert?

A nightcap, maybe.

If I consume anything else,
I will quite literally explode.

I'm in desperate need
of an elastic waistband

and the couch.

See you at home.

How'd I get so lucky?

Must've done something right?

I love you. I love you, too.

Everything all right?

Babe.

Hey, babe.

Happy Sunday.

It's after 1100 in the morning;
Why didn't you wake me up

and kiss me when you got home last night?

I just couldn't.

I couldn't do it; You were too adorable.

All curled up around your
pillow like a little koala.

Wait.

Do koalas drool?

You have to wake me up and kiss me.

Drool or no drool, cute or not cute.

We had a deal.

Aye, aye, Captain Morgan.

I won't let it happen again.

Mea culpa. Mea culpa.

Is that the door?

Is this the Valerian residence?

We're looking for a Mr. Greg Valerian.

W-Would you mind telling me
just what this is about?

Does Mr. Valerian live here?
We need to speak with him.

Greg? Is everything all right?

- What's going...?
- Greg Valerian?

Yes, why?

You're the owner of the
Briarcrest Room restaurant?

I am. Is everything all right?

We'd like you to come down
to the station with us, sir.

There's been a fire.

A fire? When?

Happy Sunday.

- Hi. How did you...?
- Benny called me.

Told me about the fire,
said it was turning into

an all-day event.

What's the latest?

I don't know.

It seems like Greg's been back there

with the detectives for hours.

Last I heard, the fire was out,

and the fire inspectors
were going through the place.

Apparently, there's not much left.

It was Greg's first
restaurant, his whole...

What?

What-what is it? What's happened?

They found a body.

The night janitor was in the restaurant

when the fire broke out.

He's dead.

God.

- That's awful. I have to see Greg...
- No, no, no.

You can't do that right now, Marissa.

What? Why not?

Greg's been arrested.

He's being booked at the moment.

You'll be able to see him
as soon as we post bail.

What's the charge?

Involuntary manslaughter.

That's... that's...

15 years.

I don't know if you have
a criminal attorney or not,

but if you do, please let them know that.

TAC would like to offer our services.

And if you don't have an attorney,

I stand ready to represent you, Greg.

No, I don't have a criminal attorney.

Thank you. Thank you all.

Tell us about the man who died.

He was a really nice man.

Didn't speak a lot of English.

Loved to show pictures of his...

grandkids.

His poor wife. I have to,
I have to talk to her.

Pay my respects.

As your attorney, I would
strongly advise against that.

Even offering condolences can be spun

by the prosecutor as
an admission of guilt.

But that's-that's crazy.

- I have to do something.
- Hey...

Pay for the,

funeral, set up some kind
of fund for the family.

- Something.
- I can do all of those things.

I can make arrangements through TAC.

All right, well, let's talk about

the fire inspector's report for a second.

He's saying that a grease
buildup in the exhaust ducts

above the kitchen caught fire,

creating an enormous
heat in the duct system.

And when the flames grew powerful enough,

apparently they burst
through a loose vent...

and came in contact
with improperly stored

cleaning materials,
which caused an explosion.

That sounds like bad luck.

An accident, not a crime.

Well, you're the only
one who's gonna see it

that way, I'm afraid.

The first thing they teach you

when you go to work
in a restaurant kitchen

is that two out of three restaurant fires

are caused by grease buildup.

There's even a law.

In New York, you have to
have your exhaust systems

professionally cleaned and inspected

every three months, which I do.

Those ducts were clean,
like, seven weeks ago.

The report indicates at
least five months worth

of buildup would have been
required to start that fire.

Well, that's-that's impossible.

That must be some mistake.

Those ducts were cleaned and inspected.

We'll look into it, but, Greg,

that's not your only problem.

See, the prosecution
is going to say that you

repeatedly disregarded
city and state regulations.

They're gonna point to

a lack of oversight and lax management.

What are they talking about?

The Briarcrest Room was served
with a fire code violation

six months ago and an OSHA citation

just 12 weeks ago.

Well, the fire code violation
was nothing.

One of the managers
added a few extra tables

over a holiday weekend.

And the OSHA citation?

Some of the guys got a little
lazy with the cleaning supplies.

Not storing them properly.

As soon as I found out,

I made the whole staff
do safety training,

and I beefed up the closing procedures.

It never happened again.

Till last night.

What's your tummy tell you?

Not much. Not yet.

Same here.

Not that it matters.

I mean, at the end of the day,
we're in it for Marissa.

Whether he's guilty or not,
the job's the same.

We need to convince a jury that this fire

was not foreseeable, not his fault.

Good luck to us.

What if we're wrong?

What if it's exactly what he says it is?

A collision of unfortunate
miscalculations.

A perfect storm.

Like some kind of
gigantic systems failure?

A fluke rather than
a pattern of behavior.

So, what kind of jurors
are we looking for?

Fellow business owners
who will sympathize?

People who understand complex systems?

Post hoc, ergo, propter hoc.

Post hoc, ergo, propter hoc?

After this, therefore, because of this.

That's the prosecution's theory.

The fire and JC's subsequent death

happened after a series
of negligent behaviors.

The fire code violation,

the OSHA citation, the grease buildup.

I would argue the same thing.

But post hoc is actually
a logical fallacy.

It basically means that
correlation equals causation,

which it doesn't.

Just because there's a relationship

between two events doesn't mean
one event caused the other.

So, to answer your question,

we need people who understand that.

We need people who see that correlation

doesn't always equal causation.

And how do I go about that?

Good morning.

So it says here on
your jury questionnaire

that you played semipro football.

Up until about a year ago.

You drink a lot of sports drinks?

- Sure. Got to stay hydrated.
- What if I told you

that there is a direct correlation

between the number of
sports drinks a person consumes

and the increased likelihood

of that person getting a knee injury?

I would say your logic is faulty,

but your conclusion is sound.

- How so?
- I mean,

it makes sense.

People who drink a lot of sports drinks

are more likely to be athletes.

Athletes are more likely to get injured.

But sports drinks
don't cause knee injuries.

This juror is acceptable
to the defense, Your Honor.

Mr. Watson. You are a high
school history teacher.

- That's correct.
- So let me ask you a question.

Are you aware that in World War I,

the British wore steel helmets
for the first time?

I'm vaguely aware of that.

So would it surprise you to hear
that the rate of head injuries

went up, not down?

Do you have any explanation for that?

I can offer an educated guess.

I mean, it makes sense,
having all that metal

clanking around on your head,

it's bound to bang you up.

Interesting theory.

But wrong. The steel helmets
actually kept more men alive

that otherwise would have died.

True, they had head injuries,
but at least

they were still breathing.

Taylor, give me a reason
to keep this guy.

I don't think there is one.

We'd like to thank and excuse
this juror, Your Honor.

Then the defense is out of challenges.

Is this panel acceptable
to the prosecution?

It is, Your Honor.

Then we have our jury.

I was hoping for a stronger start, Bull.

By my count, at least eight
of these jurors

are susceptible to logical fallacies.

That means a third aren't.

That's not bad. We can work with a third.

- Got a sec?
- Sorry.

You scared me. Um, you heading home?

Yeah, in a minute.

While you were in court,
Taylor and I went through

all the paperwork for all
of Greg's restaurants,

and we found something
I wanted you to see.

What exactly am I looking at?

Did you know that Greg only had six weeks

to pay his investors $2 million

or he'd lose the controlling
stake in his restaurant group?

Mind if I join?

I think my husband owes
millions of dollars

he's never told me about.

You know,

debt's a funny word.

One man's debt is another
man's working capital.

You know what I mean?

I just know what I read.

Danny showed me some promissory notes.

Apparently, he is two weeks away
from losing everything.

If he doesn't pay,

which the promissory note
wouldn't have shown you.

Are we having a conversation about Greg,

or the last great love
of your life, Kyle?

I sure can pick them, can't I?

Listen, I don't mean
to crash your pity party,

but I think you might be
rushing to judgment here.

But why wouldn't he tell me?

I have no idea.

Ask him.

Taxi!

He's not Kyle.

Based on our investigation,

this fire and the subsequent explosion

were the result of a grease
buildup, a faulty vent

and the haphazard storage of
cleaning products and solvents.

Correct me if I'm wrong,
Fire Marshal Anderson,

but isn't all of that preventable?

Yes. The City of New York
has rules and regulations

to prevent incidents like this
from happening.

So is it fair to say
that JC Morales's death

is a direct result of the defendant

disregarding those regulations?

You could say that, yes.

Thank you. No further questions.

Good morning,

Fire Marshal Anderson.

Really appreciate your testimony.

The thing is...

I've been through your report
a dozen times,

and there's something
that's been bothering me.

I see no mention of what
actually ignited the grease

and started the fire in the first place.

Well, given the severity

of the damage,
that's impossible to determine.

Yes, but given
your 35 years of experience,

I imagine you have a theory.

Objection. Calls for speculation.

A professional opinion

is not the same
as speculation, Ms. Drake.

You may answer the question.

Most likely, some kind
of particulate matter got in

through the vent and heated over
time to the point of ignition.

That's interesting.

Now, when you say "particulate matter,"

you're basically saying anything
that burns and is small enough

to have gotten up into that vent, right?

I mean, it could be a
small piece of paper,

an onion skin,
the lint from somebody's pocket,

a cigarette ash?

It's certainly possible, though
there's no evidence to suggest

any of those items were involved.

What if I told you
that the deceased Mr. Morales

had a history of smoking inside
the restaurant after hours?

Objection. No foundation.

Your Honor,
we'd like to enter into evidence

a report from JC Morales's
personnel file.

An opening manager had

written him up after finding
cigarette butts he had left

when cleaning the night before.

So...

if Mr. Morales had been smoking inside

the night of the fire,

wouldn't you say it would've

been possible for him to have
inadvertently started the fire?

Yes. If that was the case,
it's certainly possible

he may have started the ignition.

Thank you.

No further questions, Your Honor.

Good news for our team.

Starting to see a little burst of green.

We'd like to redirect, Your Honor.

Go ahead.

So, Fire Marshal Anderson,

regardless if the fire was
ignited by a cigarette

or any number of other things

that could have gotten through
that faulty vent,

were it not for the grease buildup

and the improperly stored chemicals,

wouldn't Mr. Morales still be alive?

No accelerant, no explosion.

So yes, I believe he would.

Thank you. No further questions.

You Michael Davis?

Cesar Caputo. Who wants to know?

My name is Danny James.

I'm working on Greg Valerian's
defense team.

Investigating the Briarcrest Room fire?

I have an inspection report here saying

that the restaurant's
exhaust vents were cleaned

by this company two months ago.

I'm looking for the guy
that signed it, Michael Davis.

Yeah, well...

if you find him,
tell him I want my tools back.

- He's not here?
- He's not here. He's not anywhere.

Hey.

This is your company, right, Mr. Caputo?

Can you explain to me
how there could have been

five months of grease in those vents,

if this guy Davis did
what he said he did?

Well, I think you just answered
your own question, didn't you?

Look, 80% of our guys

have been here since
they graduated high school.

They're grateful for the job,

and they take
the responsibility seriously.

But the other 20?
It's like a revolving door.

Nobody dreams of crawling through

greasy ducts for a living,

spending all day breathing in solvents.

It doesn't matter how much you pay them.

'Cause sometimes they can make
more for not doing the job.

All right? Guy owns a restaurant,

he needs the kitchen that
morning for a catering job,

or simply can't be bothered

having somebody that'll let us in.

Now, mind you,
I have no idea what happened.

Davis is long gone, I can't find him.

For all I know, he did
what he was supposed to do

and that's why he signed the paper.

And by the way,

you call me into court,
that's what I'm gonna say.

He claims he doesn't know anything.

But he did strongly imply

that if those ducts weren't clean,

it's because Greg
didn't want them cleaned.

Sorry I'm late.

Didn't realize we were having a meeting.

Nothing important.
Just the usual postmortem.

You really don't need to be here.

In fact, aren't there other places,

other people,
it would make more sense for you

to be spending time with?

I think that's for me to decide.

Don't forget, I actually have
two dogs in this fight.

My husband, and TAC.

I may lose one. I am not gonna lose both.

Now why wouldn't Greg want
those ducts cleaned?

Nobody knows anything.

These are just theories. Marissa...

I might know.

Greg's fire insurance policy.

It would have given him more
than enough to cover his debts.

Marissa, we all know
how hard this is for you.

How tempting it is to get ahead of it,

assume the worst.

That way, the world won't let you down.

That way, the ones you love
won't wound you

because you've already wounded yourself,

and there's no blood left to bleed.

But the simple truth is,

there is absolutely no evidence
that this fire was intentional.

Not even the prosecutor
is claiming it was arson.

Okay. You're right.

But there's something else.

Something else I haven't
shared with any of you.

Okay.

Greg and I have this thing.

It's a ritual.

Sort of a promise we made to each other.

If I'm asleep
when he gets home from work,

he wakes me up and kisses me.

And if he's asleep when I get home...

you get the idea.

And you're mentioning it because...?

Because we've been doing it every night

since we got back together.

Every night, one of us gets home
later than the other.

Every night,
except the night of the fire.

The night of the fire,
he didn't wake me up.

It's the only time

and I cannot help but wonder,

is it because he wasn't at home
when he should've been?

And if he wasn't, where was he?

Thanks, Benny.

Danny.

See you in court.

You know where to find me.

I apologize if I seem dramatic.

Just...

a man lost his life.

I'm hoping it's a terrible accident,

but it's possible it wasn't.

And I need to know.

I need to know who I married.

Want to share a cab?

Look, the fire science can be subjective.

There's always room for interpretation.

I know someone, an arson expert
with top-of-the-line equipment.

Like me to give her a call?

Might put your mind at ease.

I wouldn't mind having a second opinion.

I'm a terrible wife.

I should just trust, right?

You're asking the Helen Keller
of marriage

whether or not he likes
the color of your dress.

You are who you are.

You can only do what you can do.

You can only be who you can be.

Dr. Bull, Chef Hansen.

Just finished a little witness prep

and I believe he's good to go.

Thanks for doing this, Chef.

Happy to. Greg's my boy.
Anything I can do to help.

Well, not much to it.

Just need you to testify
to Greg's safety policies

and character as a business owner.

No problem.

Do you think I have a little
time before you guys need me?

I'd love to go outside
and maybe walk a mile or so.

Trying to get my steps in.

The girlfriend
worries about my love affair

with butter and sugar and cream.
Checks the count every night.

Yeah. No girlfriend,

but, I count steps now, too.

Steps are gonna have to wait.
Benny says it's go time.

Let's do it.

Now the prosecution has been
trying to paint Greg

as a negligent boss.

A guy who doesn't like
to follow the rules.

Now, you worked for him for eight years.

Now what's your impression of him?

My impression?

The Briarcrest Room is the
best place I've ever worked.

Probably the best place I ever will work.

Why is that?

A lot of restaurant owners in this city

only care about status
and their bottom line.

Greg is not that guy.

He understands the business.

He cares about his product
and his customers.

He cares about his employees
and their futures, their lives.

He made me business partner

after six years of working together.

Told me I was such
a valuable member of the team,

he couldn't bear the thought of me

not profiting from my hard work.

I mean, come on, that's pretty special.

It is indeed.

No further questions, Your Honor.

Just one question for you, Chef Hansen.

If Greg Valerian was such an amazing boss

and you were so lucky to be there,

then why were you looking
for another job?

Wait.

No, no, no, no, no.
That's not exactly true.

So you weren't interviewing

with other investors and restaurants?

No.

Is that your sworn testimony under oath?

Okay, I had started
to look around a little.

Sometimes you just got to change it up.

I'm sorry. I don't understand.

A minute and a half ago,

you were talking about
what a special place

the Briarcrest Room was and how
grateful you were to your boss,

and now you're saying you were
looking to "change it up"?

Greg had gotten busy.

Building a new place in Brooklyn.

It was getting harder
to get his attention,

to get the answers I needed

to keep the kitchen what it needed to be.

It sounds worse than it was.

You take some meetings.
You do some interviews.

Doesn't mean anything.

I beg to differ.

Now go back to where you said it
was "hard to get his attention."

Would you say that Greg had been
neglecting his duties

- at the Briarcrest Room?
- Objection!

I'll withdraw. No further questions.

We're starting to think

that the only way forward is
to put you on the stand, Greg.

Let you speak for yourself.

You guys go ahead. I need a minute.

I just finished with the arson expert.

And?

She said the fire inspector's
methodology was sound,

but she reran the chemical
samples through a system

using chromatography
and spectrographic analysis,

something the FDNY didn't have
access to on this case.

That was quite a drumroll.

She found traces of gasoline.

Gasoline's not commonly found

among restaurant cleaning products?

No, it is not. The fire was arson.

He moved out of state.

You talk to Marissa yet?

No, and I'm not going to
and neither are you.

Dr. Bull, it was arson.

She has to know. We have to tell her.

I mean, this is her life.

She was the one who had
misgivings in the first place.

I know it's her life,

which is why no one
is going to say anything

unless and until we have proof.

We have proof.

Proof the fire was arson,
not that Greg did it.

If we tell Marissa

that her husband
is criminally responsible

for the death of a man,
her marriage is over.

That is a bell we cannot un-ring.

So...

before we go around broadcasting
something we suspect,

we need to find out
if our suspicions are true,

or, even better, if they're not.

Direct is the easy part.

That's when Benny will run you
through a series of questions

about how you run your business.

Every chance you get,

stress why you love your restaurants,

and if you're honest and open,
the jury will feel that,

and they'll be more inclined
to believe what you say.

Simple as that?

It's as simple as that.

Now, cross-examination is where
we can run into trouble.

Pardon the interruption.

Greg.

You mind if I do the honors?

You want to prep Greg yourself?

Yeah, I just feel like
keeping my hand in.

Don't want to get rusty,
and Greg's kind of like family.

Whatever you say.

Thank you, Dr. Bull.

Taking the time.

- Jason.
- Jason.

So why didn't you wake
your wife with a kiss

when you came home
on the night of the fire?

I really need to know.

Was it because you were
later than usual or...?

From what I understand,
you normally get home

between midnight and 100.

Of course, the fire was at 300.

I'm sorry, could you speak up?
I'm having trouble hearing you.

This is like... practice, right?

You're pretending to be the woman

from the district attorney's office?

Right?

They're just questions.

The answers shouldn't change

no matter who's doing the asking.

Did Marissa say something to you?

New subject, just curious.
How much do you stand to gain

from the fire insurance policy
on the restaurant?

What do you mean, gain?
The restaurant's gone.

JC is dead. No one gains anything.

Except for insurance money.

How much is it? How much do you get?

A lot.

But none of it's mine.
None of it's liquid.

All that money is committed
to rebuilding the restaurant.

Really? You weren't planning on
using it to repay investors

so you could keep control of the company?

That's not how the contract is written.

I have to use the money
to rebuild the restaurant.

The insurance company
won't give it to me otherwise.

Happy to show you the policy.

Excellent answer.

Now, what if someone said,

"Turns out it was actually arson"?

What was actually arson?

And who is "someone"?

I'm saying it.

I hired the best expert there is,

and she says it's arson.

So what I need to know from you is

Were you in on it?

Are you the one that set the fire,

or did you just pay to make it happen?

Do you believe in redemption?

I would need to know about
your transgressions first.

I am the reason my marriage
didn't work the first time.

My wife Marissa was away a lot,

and I felt that gave me permission

to feel sorry for myself.

And feeling sorry for yourself
is no fun alone.

Getting her back

a second time...

is as close to a miracle as
I am ever likely to experience.

The night you're asking about,

I got home at the regular time,
but I was exhausted.

Like, sleep-in-your-clothes exhausted.

And she looked so... content.

So... beautiful...

lying there, asleep.

So I thought, okay. We've gotten there.

I'm not gonna wake her up.
I don't have to.

She doesn't need me to do that.

She knows I love her.

I can see it on her face.

Guess I was wrong.

Okay.

But did you set the fire?

My other transgressions,

my lifetime of transgressions

ceased to matter the day I broke
ground on that restaurant.

I was determined,
despite all the bad choices

I might have made in my past,

despite having always been told

that I would never amount to anything...

To build a beautiful thing,

an enchanted place where people
could have magical experiences.

Where I would employ people
and train people,

serve fabulous food
and intoxicating drinks.

But the best part...

was after all the people had left,

after all the chairs were on the table.

I would sit there alone,

thinking...

look at what I did.

Look what I built.

None of this would exist

if it wasn't for me.

I would no more put a match to that place

than I would betray my wife.

They are... my redemption.

They are my salvation.

Well, for what it's worth,

I think you'll make an excellent witness.

Now we just have to figure out
who did set that fire.

Preferably within the next 18 hours.

I checked out the insurance policy,

and Greg was telling the truth.

He has no access to the payout.

It has to be spent
to rebuild the restaurant.

And if for some reason
they elect not to rebuild,

the only people who get any money at all

are the original investors,

and they only get enough
to be made whole.

So, no one stood to profit from the fire?

Well, one person did.

Six years after the
restaurant was opened,

Chef Hansen was made a partner.

Not because he invested any capital,

but as an inducement to
keep him from ever leaving.

So, as it happens,
he would be the only one

to walk away from this with fresh cash.

And he needs cash.

Hansen wasn't looking for a new job.

He was looking for partners
for his own restaurant.

He made an offer for
a place in the Bowery.

He just needed money
for the down payment.

Sounds like Hansen might be our arsonist.

Yeah. And if we're gonna
introduce arson in court,

we need something solid...

real proof that it wasn't our client.

And we have to do it in the next...

You all right, boss?

Taylor, you have your laptop with you?

Great. We have work to do.

Chef Hansen...

thank you for agreeing

to take the stand one more time.

Happy to do it.

Just for the record, what time did you

close the restaurant
on the night of the fire?

I think I locked up around 100 a.m.

And then what did you do?

Grabbed a drink with Kim, my sous chef.

At the Rosemead Pub, is that right?

Yes. That's right.

And when did you leave the pub,
would you say?

Objection! Your Honor, relevance?

As riveting as the minutia
of Mr. Hansen's evening is,

I don't see what it has
to do with the case.

Your Honor, I guarantee
you will see the relevance

if you'll allow me to continue.

Get to the point, Mr. Colón.

Quickly.

So what time did you leave the pub?

I hopped a cab home around 230, I think.

And you went straight home?

You didn't stop anywhere first?

No. I was tired. I just went home.

Your Honor, we'd like
to enter into evidence

the GPS data from
Chef Hansen's smartwatch

- on the night of the fire.
- Objection!

The smartwatch app is open-source.

The A.D.A. had the same access
to this information as we did.

I'll allow it.

Thank you, Your Honor. Thank you.

Chef Hansen, were you
wearing your smartwatch

on the night of the fire?

It certainly looks like you were.

It-it corroborates your testimony.

You-you left the restaurant at 100 a.m.,

then on to the Rosemead.

The only thing is... it doesn't
have you going straight home

after you left the bar.

Your smartwatch app has you going back

to the Briarcrest Room.

As a matter of fact, the GPS data has you

in the restaurant from 252 to 307 a.m.

Actually... I forgot my knife roll.

Keep my knives in it.

I've had it for 20 years.
I had to go back and get it.

So, what, you just forgot
about that when I asked you?

I mean... it wasn't a big deal.

But on this night, there was a fire.

Right around the time your watch says

you went back to the restaurant.

You sure you didn't start a fire

so that you could use your cut
of the insurance money

to put a down payment on your own place?

Never mind. No further
questions, Your Honor.

Man...

We the jury find the
defendant, Greg Valerian,

not guilty.

My...

Thank you.

You're welcome.

I am really, really happy.

Aren't you really, really happy?

Honestly, I'm...

kind of confused.

You told your boss about our kiss thing?

You made an issue out of not
getting a kiss that night?

Because you thought it meant

I must have been out late setting a fire.

No. Of course not.

I just...

You just. I know.

You just can't help yourself.

You are the sum of your experiences,

as you love to remind me.

And so many of your
experiences have been...

not great.

Your first experience
with me... not great.

So I get it.

But I don't know if I can accept it.

I wanted you beside me.

Behind me.

Believing in me.

Never really felt you were there.

Um...

I don't disagree with anything you said.

I'm not proud of it.

I wanted to be there for you.

But I am who I am.

I can only do what I can do.

And I can only be who I can be.

Please give me time.

Please give me a chance to learn.

What was that?

I just wanted to let you know I was home.

Come on.

Let's go to bed.

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