To say I was grumpy this morning was smooth. I was pissed. First, I've been having those weird dreams about the Nemeton and they are absolutely terrifying.
Isaac left the bathroom all dressed and looked at me.
"Can I—Can I ask you a question?"
I looked at him. "No. But you're gonna ask anyway."
"Are you angry at me?" Isaac shrugged.
"No."
He looked at me. "Are you sure?"
"No."
"What's that mean?" He frowned.
I shrugged. "I guess I'm not really sure how I'm feeling."
"Okay. Do you hate me?" He asked.
"No, of course not."
"Do you want to hit me?"
"No." I said and we looked at each other again.
"I think you should hit me." Isaac said.
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I chuckled. "I don't want to hit you."
"Are you sure?"
"Why would I want to hit you? I mean, you didn't do anything, did you?"
"No. I mean, um...." He stammered. "What do you mean?"
"I mean you didn't forget our anniversary, right?"
"No! No. Absolutely not." He shook his head.
I nodded slowly. "You forgot it. Didn't you?"
"Oh, yeah. Totally."
"Hmm." I nodded.
It was a matter of seconds until my mother ran upstairs.
"What's going on?"
"Isaac forgot our anniversary," I said.
She looked at him, "Oh, honey..."
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