"What brought this on?," he said loudly.
She hated when he said that. The very idea that single thoughts follow from single incidents, that any of her tears were brought on by anything short of an entire constellation of memories, thoughts, perceptions and feelings, felt insulting and patronizing. It was a masculine idea, Socratic, orderly, premise followed by conclusion derived from said premise, as unitary and singleminded as ducks in a row, and it made her feel crazy when he acted like this was the only way to think, the only way to live.
"You'll never understand," she spat back.