“You’ve been hovering over me for weeks, controlling everything I do, treating me like I’m made of glass, suddenly acting like the king of everything as if you haven’t spent the majority of your adult life doing whatever you want. And I’m sick of it.” I reached for the door handle, needing to get out of the confined car.
“Where are you going?” Isaac asked as I pushed the door open.
“To get some ice cream,” I said firmly. “Because I’m an adult, and I can make my own decisions about what I put in my body.”
“Bianca, don’t—”
But I was already out of the car, slamming the door behind me with perhaps more force than I should have. I stormed down the sidewalk toward the ice cream shop, my heart pounding and my cheeks hot with anger.
Who did he think he was, telling me what I c
