That's fine

Not that it's copacetic, mind you. She hated it, it wasn't what she had hoped for, she pined for something that would hurt. Giving in wasn't very satisfactory, but she wasn't willing to get out of her comfort zone. So she smoked a cigarette, glanced irritatingly at her coated nails, then turned to the computer to reluctantly spell That's fine. Every key press of the way she wished she could scream that concession was unacceptable to her. That had happened last week. The neighbors called the cops on her. Also unacceptable. Their turn will come, she giggled interiorly.