NIKLAS
She let go of the collar of my shirt and walked into the kitchen, still tearing up. I thought about going to give her a hug and tell her I loved her, and that with every drop of tear she shed, a bit of my being left me.
Knowing going after her would only continue the argument, I went to the porch and sat there. I would wait for her to go to bed before I entered the house. It was best that way. Sleeping on the couch was way better than having a heated argument before lying down.
“Hey,” I said as Mia climbed into my lap, licking my hands. “You are a good girl.”
Carlo, on the other hand, stayed with anyone closer to the kitchen.
“Dammit,” I whispered.
This has gotten to a point where I was questioning everything and everyone, especially myself. Could I be wrong? Was there so
