He has a hold on her bones.
It freezes her; the thought that he might crack her one day. But his intent to harm is not pure. It is fuzzed by the fact that he listens to her, plays with her hair.
When they row, it is choking. The words rise up; a bilious smoke. His voice resonates in her heart, turns it until there is nothing but breathing and beating. Her ears dull with the sound.
If she didn't love him she would leave. Instead, she waits, like a child before bedtime, for the moment he doesn't notice her.