[Usually, Isha keeps it together, keeps her emotions in check when she can. Sure, she'll deliver a scathing remark, present a body of evidence that speaks for itself.

Detached would be the proper word to use here. Isha is usually detached.

This is not one of those times.

This is one of those times where she glares, where her eyes become hard diamonds and the brutal, quick lethality she's learned over the years is at the forefront. It's nearly blinding how fast her hand connects with the back of his head. The smack is ridiculously loud and if it weren't her delivering the blow, she would've winced a little.

Good thing it was with her regular arm.]

Don't be a fucking idiot, Drake. Self-pity does you no good, not least of which in this instance when you can do something about it. Do you think you were born learned? Get your act together. I'll give you this one time to wallow in your misery but I'm not going to let yourself drown in it. Do you really love her? I mean, really love her? And don't give me a "she's my wife" answer, that's not what I'm looking for.