“I’m going out” Damon says after reading a text on his phone.
I look at the clock and it reads 11:30pm, where would he need to go at such a late time. Actually, he is always coming home real late, or just disappearing for a while. And he never tells me where he is going.
“Where” I ask, looking at Damon as he grabs a duffle bag out of his room.
“Out” he says and slips on a pair of shoes.
“Why is it so hard for you to tell me where you are going, at 11:30 at night” I growl at Damon before he has the chance to walk out of the apartment.
“Because baby, you don’t need to know” I roll my eyes at his answer.
“I think I do, what if someone robs us?” I question him.
“Then you can just call me, would wouldn’t just leave the apartment when we are being robbed now would you?” he asks with a smi
