The Fight
The one that ends it
She walks through the door with attitude written all over her face. ‘Fuck,’ I think, letting out an unimpressed sigh and go back to drinking and watching the game. I’m tipsy, I had a bad day and don’t need her shit tonight. That seems to be all I ever get from her anymore.I look over and she stumbles, trying to kick off her heels. “I was working late,“ she says, rolling her eyes.I barely get out, “Yea sure,” before she sn...