Ken's POV
I sat at the kitchen counter, spooning cereal into my mouth. I hadn’t had an actual meal in what felt like weeks. The cereal was bland, tasteless, but it was quick and easy, which was all I had time for.
I glanced around the kitchen, the dishes piling up in the sink, the countertops cluttered with the remnants of breakfast and half-finished cups of coffee. I was used to this. Mitchelle had never been one for domesticity, and honestly, I didn’t care.
The fact that she spent more time in front of a mirror than taking care of anything else around here didn’t bother me much anymore.
What bothered me was the reality of my situation. I was stuck with a woman that felt more like a business arrangement than anything resembling love. Mitchelle was too wrapped up in herself to notice
