“Where were you,” I said evenly, ignoring his question.
“None of your damn business.”
I stood and felt my hands ball into fists at my sides, glaring at him.
“Well itismy business, actually, because I’ve been sitting here with dinnerwaitingfor you.”
“Such a fuckinnag,” Jason muttered, swigging from his beer. My gaze moved from the lipstick on his collar to his messed-up hair, the smug look on his face, and I rolled my eyes.
I wasn’t even shocked at this point, just mad at myself for staying this long. Ofcoursethis was how this debacle of a relationship was going to end. The zero communication and all his secrets, the fact that he had all the time in the world to go out with “clients” but no time for me, and the fact that after three months of no sex or any intimacy at all, I wasstarvedfor some physical attention
And he came home with thelipstickof some other woman on his collar.
“Ohfuck you, Jason, you think you can just—”
The slap came hard, knocking the wind out of me and leaving a stinging heat across my cheek.
The room went silent and still for a second before I whirled back at him, hand on my cheek and my jaw dropped in shock.
“Are you fucking serious?”
Jason suddenly paled, as if suddenly sobering enough to see clearly.
“Shit, baby.” His eyes were wide and he shook his head.
“Baby, I’m just drunk is all,” he mumbled. “I’m sorry, baby, you know I lov—”
“Don’t.”
My voice was ice cutting through his words.
“Don’t even say that, Jason.”
Because that moment right there in that dining room was like a puzzle piece clicking into place. Right then, everything made sense.
“Actually,” I hissed, shaking my head at him. “Don’teversay it to me again.”
I stormed off to our room before he could even say anything else. I grabbed a suitcase from the closet, half expecting him to run in and stop me, and not at all surprised when he didn’t. Five minutes later, I was stalking towards the front door with a suitcase rolling behind me.
Jasonlaughedwhen he saw me.
“You’re leaving?”
“Yeah,” I hissed, jabbing a finger at him as I snatched my resume book off the table. “Yeah Jason, I’m leaving.”
He laughed again.
“Over one little slap? Jesus.” He rolled his eyes and slugged his beer. “I bet I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“No, you won’t, asshole.”
He narrowed his eyes at me, sitting at the table and picking at the cold dinner I’d made.
“Bitch, yes I will.”
This time, I only flipped him off as I whirled and stormed away. I grinned wickedly seeing the keys to his Porsche laying on the table by the door to the garage.
Fuck him.