I don’t like the jealousy creeping through me like an invasive vine. “How many guys on this crew are ‘friends’ of yours?” My meaning is clear, and finally, I’ve got her full attention. Her eyes cut to me and there’s so much resentment and fury there, I know she’s right on the cusp of losing her temper. Her cheeks are flooded with color. Her lips are parted. I can feel her anger. She takes a step toward me, about to say something, but then she reaches for my laundry, which is stacked neatly on the dryer, and with one clean sweep, tosses it all onto the floor. “Your laundry is done.” Then she
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