Painful reunion

"Why do you pour salt on the wound?" I asked with great intrigue, leaning forward under my leg to rest my arms on the desk. "It's impossible to stumble over the same stone again, but thank you for being the good Samaritan I've always hoped for."

The tone of my sarcasm is through the roof. He's treating me like the man who hasn't broken a plate, while I attack every word that comes out of his mouth.

"Why do you want a divorce?"

Hey, who is this man!

No, I can't contain myself any longer. He's mocking me and I won't allow it. Does he suffer from some illness?

"You're an idiot, stop playing and tell me what you want," I spit out everything I feel, slapping the desk. "Last time, tell me what you want."

"I'm still in trouble, I wanted to see you to..."

"To see if you made a mistake or not. Too bad to disappoint you, but you can go back where you came from. No need to say another word, man of few words, good listener."

I stand up from the chair. I have nothing to do here. I'm hurtin