Anger.
She broke the gaze and turned her face away, like slamming a door in my face from a distance.
And I just sat there, chest tight, wondering if she knew what her eyes just did to me.
Anger?
What the hell does she have to be angry about?
Because I didn’t pick up her calls? Because I left her messages unanswered?
Please. She’s practically the queen of silent treatment. Cutting people off is her specialty. But now that she’s getting a taste of her own medicine, suddenly it stings?
Too bad.
“We’re done here,” I said through clenched teeth, already digging into my pocket for my wallet.
“You didn’t even touch your food,” Bassy pointed out, but I didn’t respond. I was already on my feet, done with pretending I could sit still while she sat a few feet away acting like the victim.
As
