Pissed

Things were tense between us. I mean, the super strained one with an uncomfortable silence so thick you can cut through it with a sword and make a pie.

After our confrontation, Mitch tried to act normal with me, coming up to tell me dinner had been made. I was the one who refused it, knowing they were only doing this because they'd gotten used to it, and were only feeling sorry for me.

I didn't eat dinner that night, despite the many times they came knocking on my door. I was heartbroken, more than they were. Their accusations hurt me the most, not waking up to see a human in the same bed with me. It broke my heart to know that the men I'd loved deeply would think badly about me.

The next day, I woke up before them, had my bath, and got dressed. I ate the last bread in the fridge, promising myself to get my food from now on. I would have moved out of their house, but the thoughts of what my father might say about it made me decide again.

In a way, they weren't to be blamed. Anyone