Entertainer.

23: workhorse.

"Oh, blow it out your ass!"

"Kat–"

"You seriously thought I would not figure out you're injured?" I hissed, glaring at Bret.

"Look...." He started gently.

"I am looking, asshole." I snapped.

"Can we talk civilly? Please? And not wake our daughter up?" He glared at me.

I shrugged my shoulders and crossed my arms over my chest as I watched him.

"It wasn't bad until recently." Bret started off slowly.

"How recent?" I pressed.

Giving me a look, he shifted awkwardly. Finally sighing.

"About a month."

I put my hand over my mouth and turned around shaking my head.

"A month? A month, Bret? Are you fucking kidding me?! You knew you have been injured and did tell me?" I hissed, my eyes watching him as he looked down at the floor. Eyes heavy with an emotion I couldn't make out.

"It's nothing I can't work through." He mumbled, begrudgingly.

"Yeah? What about in ten years when Melanie wants to know why her father can't walk to come see her? What about then? Can you work through it then?" I glared, shaking my head.

"Kat... I'm sorry. I just.... I just.... everything was going so good... and I didn't want to be the one to ruin it." Bret spoke stumbled over his words, refusing to meet my eyes.

I watched him with a heavy sigh. Moving towards him, I wrapped my arms around his shoulders. Closing my eyes, he kept his head at an angle to avoid my eyes. Gently tracing my fingers over his shoulders, drawing circles and other little happy shapes. I laid my head against his back.

"You didn't ruin anything, Bret." I spoke softly. He scoffed in return.

"Your injured. You need to take time off to heal. We can manage this, babe." I leaned up off of him, walking around to see the annoyed look on his face.

"I can't. I can't do it, Kat. I'm sorry." He shook his head.

"I'll just call Vince and tell him you need time off." I waved my hand, turning on my heel. Knowing it was pointless to keep talking, and to take matters into my own hand, I made my way into the kitchen.

Bret, however beat me to the phone. His face showed irritation and more. I raised a brow at him.

"This does not involve you, Katrina. It's my injury. I get to choose how I want to deal with it. No one else. Not Vince. Not Jim. Not my dad, and especially not you. So I'm going to say this once, stay out of it." He practically growled.

I laughed. Not in shock, or even surprise. In anger. Letting my blue eyes meet his own, I shook my head. "Fuck you."

"Be mad at me all you want, but I'm trying to make sure I can provide for my family. For Melanie, and for you." He said with the save force of tone I did.

"Fine! Work and break your leg and see if I care! I'm tired of arguing about it!" I threw my hands up, walking towards the stairs.

"Kat–" Bret was cut off by a knock at the door. I gave him a scowl. He threw a longing look my way. I rolled my eyes and stalked over to the door, opening it.

Revealing a bleach blonde young girl. Her hair was teased to the heavens, makeup done in a peacock blue eyeshadow all over her eyelids. I leaned against the door, giving an overall look of impression as I stared at the girl.