The bed was empty beside you. You stared at My empty side of the bed. The soft patterned sheets and matching pillowcases went unoccupied. You always made sure everything matched, even if it was as stupid as some pillowcases. You weren't staring at emptiness because he wasn’t home, but because you hated Me so I had to sleep downstairs on the couch.

Maybe not hated but was extremely mad at. I was acting like a huge jerk all day and then at dinner and you were tired of it.