She was beautiful, but I was done being her punching bag.
Walking into my house, I was assaulted with the smell of curry. I fucking hate curry.
“You’re home late.”
It was a dig. Always. She wasn’t concerned. She was controlling.
“Yeah. Thanks for noticing.”
Without looking at me, she motions to the table. “Dinner’s ready. I’ll bring you a dish.”
“No thanks,” I told her. “I’m going out. It smells like death in this house. What’d you do all day?”
I hear a pan hit the sink. “Saw my lawyer.”