He stared at me, his jaw tightening. “That’s not the point.”
“Oh, it’s not?” I crossed my arms, leaning back against the headboard. “Then enlighten me, Nathan. What is the point?”
He ran a hand through his hair, pacing the room like a caged animal. “The point is, you’re supposed to care. You’re supposed to feel something.”
I arched my brow. “Why? Because you went through the trouble of leaving a bra on the couch and a shoe on the stairs? Was that supposed to be for my benefit? Should I applaud your effort?”
His eyes narrowed, his frustration bubbling to the surface. “Don’t do that, Vivian.”
“Do what?” I asked, my tone dripping with sarcasm. “Point out how ridiculous you’re being? Because let me tell you, Nathan, I’ve had a hell of a morning, and I really don’t have the energy for this
