“I started it after we kissed.” “The first time?” Her hands spread, shoving my chest, and I wrap my fingers around them as they push against me again. “You were playing me.” She wrenches her hands from mine and digs her open hands into her long hair. “No, I wasn’t! It wasn’t like that!” I say, trying not to raise my voice. It’s hard but I manage to keep a somewhat subdued tone. She paces the small living room, fuming and whirling. Her hands clench at her sides before she throws them into the air, again. “So many secrets, too many secrets. I’m over it.”
I am confused at the idea of you being mad at him for essentially keeping a journal?
