I stare at my phone, eyes raking over all of the evidence of me cheating on you that you’ve presented to me. I clench my jaw so hard I’m surprised my teeth haven’t shattered. How dare you go through my phone?

I stand over you, staring down at you, green eyes blazing into yours.

“I told you not to go through my phone. Ever.” I snarl.

You stare up at me through tears. “You slept with her?”

“Mhmm,” I hum in confirmation. No remorse. “Now you know. Congrats.”

I should feel remorse, I should hate myself for cheating on the woman who loves me. But I don’t. You’ve managed to figure out something that I’ve kept hidden, I hate that. The fact that you had the audacity to go through my phone, as if it were you own, sends rage coursing through my veins.

“Why? Why would you do this to me?” You ask, voice trembling.

You’re confronting me. Showing me an unfamiliar defiance. I almost respect it. Almost.

“You think you can question me? After everything I’ve done for you?” I snarl, a scowl forming on my face.

“I hate you,” your voice raises, hands hitting my chest while tears stream down your face. “Fuck- I hate you.”

A bitter laugh escapes my lips. Of course, your harmless jabs at my chest don’t hurt. But you have the nerve to put your hands on me. Stupid woman.

“Get out,” I sneer dangerously, gripping both of your wrists with my hand as I lean close to your face. “Pack your bags and get out of my house.”

Your whole body trembles, I can see on your face that you know I’m not messing around. Your expression flashes with terror, heartbreak and confusion. I release my grip on your wrists. You immediately scurry towards the stairs.

—

I hear the suitcase rolling across the floor before I see you, you appear in the doorway of the lounge. I stub my cigarette in the ashtray, pushing myself off of the sofa and begin stalking towards you.

“Go on then. Get out.” I order, leaving no room for argument.

“You cheated on me and you’re kicking me out. How does that even make sense?” You ask, bottom lip quivering as your tears spill.

I stare at you like you’ve asked the dumbest question I’ve ever heard. My head tilts slightly, jaw twitching.

“Because this is my house,” I snap. “You don’t get to cry and whine after going through my shit like some desperate little rat. You think that’s love?”