Kayla
“Get it over with,” I hissed through clenched teeth, slamming a cupboard shut with force. I picked up the bowl and whirled around toward the fridge, making no attempt to muffle the sound of my stomping footsteps as I stormed over and flung it open. “The small details don’t matter that much…”
I rolled my eyes as I yanked the milk out of the fridge. The white liquid sloshed onto the counter as I poured it into my bowl of cereal, but I didn’t care. I didn’t even really notice.
I was too angry to notice.
For weeks now, I had convinced myself that what we were doing was just s*x—nothing more, nothing less. And I had convinced myself that I was okay with that.
Of course I wasn’t. Of course I wanted a real wedding, to be loved by a man who, in his words, ‘planned on taki
