BRYSON’S HOME
Chantelle stepped out in time to see Bryson slurping on coffee in the kitchen, still angry at his attitude from the early morning hours. She chose to ignore him and made for the door. But as always, Bryson wouldn’t let it slide so easily.
“Where are you going?” he inquired.
She groaned inwardly, letting out a string of curses through gritted teeth. After a few seconds, she turned to him. “Out.”
“Where?”
She exhaled sharply, “I need to shop for some baking ingredients.”
“If that is the case, why are you going this early? Isn’t it just like grocery shopping? Are you going to starve my kids just for an hour shopping?”
“lord help me,” she mumbled under her breath. “I am not hungry yet. Don’t think I have the strength to stomach anything this morning.” Especially with him
