Then his pride returned.
“You’re being dramatic.”
“No.”
I shook my head.
“I’m finally being honest.”
He grabbed his jacket from the chair.
“Fine. Sleep on it. Tomorrow we’ll talk when you’re acting normal.”
I watched him walk toward the bedroom.
“Julian.”
He stopped.
“This is my condo.”
His shoulders stiffened.
“What?”
“You heard me.”
“You’re throwing me out?”
“I’m asking you to leave tonight.”
His face changed.
Not because he was hurt.
Because he was shocked that I had the authority to make that decision.
“You wouldn’t.”
I looked at him.
“You still don’t know me.”
Those words followed him out of the room.
The next morning, sunlight entered the condo like nothing had happened.
That was the strange thing about life.
A person’s world could collapse at midnight, and the sun would still rise at dawn.
I spent the early morning cleaning.
