“Oh, so you’re calling me a slut now?” I yelled back at him, pushing him out of the way to grab the butter out of the fridge and bring it back to the island. “No, you dense bitch! I am not.” He slapped the stick of butter out of my hand, and I gasped as it hit the floor. Without really thinking about what I was doing—something I was doing a lot of lately—I reacted on instinct. And slapped him across the face.
