Ariana's POV;
"Babe, let's not argue over this." Damien said with a frustrated sigh.
"My mind's made up." I said, propping my feet up on the bedstead.
"Why don't you want to come back with us?"
I glanced at him who was seated on the stool in front of my vanity mirror.
"I just need some more time here."
"How long?" He asked.
"I don't know." I shrugged.
"You've been here for close to two months." He pointed out like I didn't already know that.
"Yes. And now I don't feel like going back to LA anymore."
He stood up and placed his arms across his broad chest, posing like he was thinking of how to put his words properly so they wouldn't sound offensive.
"Ariana, we're married." He began.
"Yeah, so?"
"We've been away from each other since the year began." He pointed out.
