ALEXA THORNE
It had been seven days since I lost my temper. Or you could say since we both lost our temper. She was my wife now. On paper, at least.
And in my world, that title meant something. Or it was supposed to. We are supposed to be a team but I guess that's not happening anytime soon.
She hadn't spoken much since. And I haven't seen her much either. She rarely steps out of her room if I was at home.
I hated it.
She entered the dining room just past nine. Her hair was damp, clinging to the edge of her sweater. She looked tired, but still maddeningly graceful. Even now — after everything — she still carried herself like she was trying to take up less space.
I didn't lift my eyes from the paper.
"Good morning," she said, her voice thin. I was surprised that she w
