GABRIELLE’S POV
“That f*****g bastard!”
I shut the door behind me with more force than necessary, annoyed at Damon but even more annoyed at myself for not expecting him to turn back into the impenetrable wall that he was.
One minute we were having fun and spending time together. Next, he ordered me to go inside, as if I were his staff and not his wife.
I walked into the kitchen and dropped the ice cream on the counter, my appetite completely gone.
Screw Damon!
Screw him to hell and back.
“Poor ice cream,” I heard a familiar voice behind me.
I turned to the doorway. “I’m not in the mood, Beatrice.”
She smiled and stepped into the kitchen. “I guess I was wrong then. It’s not poor ice cream, it’s poor you.”
“Excuse me?”
Beatrice sat on one of the kitchen chairs and leaned over
