[She sighs, looks away. She would prefer this wait, but if he's ready to do this now, despite being naked and in the bath, then fine.]

You used me, and you played me. You have no idea what it was like to watch you die. No idea what it did to me. How much I blamed myself for not being able to stop you, and how angry I am that you didn't trust me enough to do all this together. Or even to just tell me that the suicide was an act. I had to spend the past two plus years thinking you might be alive, which is almost worse than knowing you were dead. If you were dead, I could have moved on. But instead, every time I got some indication that you might be alive, it ripped that wound open again.