He opens the shower door and reaches in to turn the heat of the water down with a scowl. “Just because you’re hurting doesn’t mean you should boil to fucking death in there.” I glance down and find my skin way past rosy red and into that bright lobster shade that my OCD tendencies love so much. “I need to get clean.” His eyebrows draw together and his voice dips low. “Then grab some fucking soap. Stop hurting yourself over some motherfucker who doesn’t deserve you and don’t worry about something as stupid as me leaving. You think I don’t know you love him? You think that shit will scare me
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