Fuck you, Ivy

Dillon didn't make any sound at her statement. He walked to his closet and came out almost immediately with a pack of cigarettes. He lit one cigarette up and had three puffs. He sat on the only couch in the bedroom.

Ivy was getting exasperated that he was mute to what she said. Didn't her statement deserve a response?

"I said I want a divorce," She repeated audibly.

Dillon threw the already-lit cigarette in his hand into a waste bin. He stood and was going to the bathroom when Ivy held his arm, stopping him from moving.

Dillon halted and looked at her hands on his arm. His tensed bones became relieved.

"You can't go in there until you give me a befitting response,"

She uttered, deepening her eyes into his.

Dillon opened his mouth like he wanted to say something, but he discontinued and flashed his white teeth at her.

His smile was captivating and charming. Ivy forgot she wanted to divorce for a few seconds and smiled back at him.

Dillon moved his mouth closer to her ear and