Page 36 of Broken Bonds

He rolls his eyes before answering. “What’s mine is yours, we are married. And we don’t have a prenuptial agreement, I must add.”

“I told you I don’t want your money, call your lawyer.”

He makes a hand gesture like saying, forget about it. “Okay, one problem at a time. Get a charger, tell me your phone model, maybe mine will work for yours.”

That’s a great suggestion, and the solution to one of my problems. Well, definitely the most urgent one.

“An iPhone,” I reply smiling.

“Just like me, let me go get it.” And he leaves the room.

While Lionel is upstairs, I open the refrigerator thinking about what to fix for breakfast. With all the time I wasted, I decide to make us something quick.

“Last night, we didn’t have a chance to cut the pie,” he says from behind me. This man is like a ninja, he scared the shit out of me.

“Dessert for breakfast?”

“There must be some white cheddar cheese somewhere,” he mutters. “Let it be our new tradition, from this day forward, this house will serve dessert for breakfast.”

Without wasting any more time, I cut two large pieces of pie and put them in the oven. After that, I take my cell phone out of my bag and hand it to Lionel, who has the charger ready.

He looks at my phone with wide eyes and then smirks at me. “Is this an iPhone 7?”

Raising my chin, I reply. “An iPhone 7 Plus in mint condition, works like a charm.”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me, Stella, this thing only works as a paperweight.”

With a haughty gesture, I rip it out of his hands. “It’s mine, and it gets the job done wonderfully. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have things to do. The pie is in the oven.”

I walk out of the kitchen in a hurry, seeking refuge. Upstairs, at the end of the hallway, I find a room with a bathroom and walk-in closet. I drop onto the closet floor, gently closing the door behind me.

No matter how much money Lionel has at hand, it doesn’t give him the right to make fun of my belongings. They are mine. No one has given them to me, and I had to work very hard for them. It seems, after all, the change wasn’t that big, and he’s still the same asshole.

I wipe away the tears falling down my cheeks, angry with him and myself for feeling this way. Before, I would have swallowed my anger, faked a smile, and acted like nothing happened. But that isn’t me anymore. If he doesn’t like it, he must live with it.

I hear the door open. I see him out of the corner of my eye, but I don’t dare to look up. Lionel doesn’t enter the room, he stays there, leaning against the doorframe looking at me with his hands tucked into his pockets.

“I’m sorry, Stella,” he says quietly.

I don’t say anything. I’m still on the floor toying with the phone in my hands.

“I’m really sorry.”

“It doesn’t matter,” I quickly respond because I want him to go away and leave me alone again. After all, he’s good at it.

“Of course it matters. You’re upset.”

“Ignore it, like you always do.”

Please, leave me alone. He’s turning the air heavy in this small room, it’s impossible to breathe.

“I clearly don’t know how to do this,” he says before walking in. A bit later, he squats down in front of me.

I snort, that’s new. Lionel doesn’t know and isn’t interested in making it better. I know that story by heart.

“Can I sit with you?” He points to the wall beside me, as I just shrug. He can do whatever he wants.

“This is your home.”