It didn’t last.
“Let’s take a break,” Ronald said after a while, leaning back slightly in his chair as he flexed his hand. “My hand’s starting to hurt.”
I glanced at him briefly before nodding. “Okay.”
“Get me a glass of water?”
I paused for half a second, then stood up without a word and walked out to the kitchen. By the time I came back, he had shifted positions, his gaze following me as I handed him the glass.
He took a sip, then frowned slightly.
“It’s warm.”
I stared at him. “It’s room temperature.”
“Exactly,” he said, like that proved his point. “Can you get me a cold one?”
I inhaled slowly, forcing down the irritation rising in my chest before turning and heading back out again. When I returned with colder water, he took another sip, then grimaced faintly.
“Too cold.”
Som
