Eyes narrowed, Michelle propped a hand on her hip. “And just where do you think you’re going?” Oh god, she sounded just like her mother. And like a teenager caught sneaking out—because really, what else could he be doing?—Gabe cringed. His shoulders hunched up near his ears and his lips parted in a grimace. “Um . . .” He seemed to be at a loss for words, but despite the early hour and minimal caffeine, Michelle was not. Besides, she didn’t need an explanation. His intention was clear. This motherfucker was leaving her again. Michelle stomped to the bottom of the stairs and glared up at him.
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