“I’m sorry, Alix, but I think that’s disgusting.” Alix stops halfway to the tap with the pasta pan and turns back to Josie. “I—” “Seriously. I’m sorry. But I could hear him, on the phone, slurring. And here you are, slaving over a nice meal for him, entertaining guests, looking so nice. Who does he think he is?”
Girl I don't think you're in a place to judge
