“I received your text,” I start, still not bothering to turn around, which is more self-preservation than being a dick, but it serves both purposes. “Yes. I know you did, though I didn’t mean to send it to you.” “Was your boyfriend accusing you of having a moment with your boss?” She laughs, though there is no humor in it. “My boyfriend? Is that your way of fishing?” I don’t reply because yes, it was, and the inane jealousy it breeds only fuels my rancor. What is wrong with me? Where is all this coming from?
