Then I saw them, Andrew and Claire, approaching. Claire held an urn in her hand, her face haggard.
What show is this now?
Surprisingly, Andrew's expression was nothing but pity and tenderness. I wanted to laugh, 'cause seriously. Since when did this jerk have a heart?
But, well. I almost forgot. It's Claire, and only Claire can bring out decency in him.
“Babe, this cemetery is so nice! It's so full of flowers! Milo should like it, right?” I heard Claire say, her voice soft, almost fragile.
Milo... Wasn't that her dog?
Andrew's face twisted in distress. He was about to speak, but he saw me, and his eyes dimmed. It was as if I would forever be an annoyance to him, a fly buzzing in his perfect little world.
“Emily, you’re never going to stop, are you? First, you talk about divorce, and now you’re following me here. Don't you have anything better to do?”
Not gonna lie, his words made my blood boil.
Did he really think I had time to follow him around and watch him fawn over that woman and her damn dog?
Andrew walked up, frowning with displeasure. Will I give him attention? Of course not.
“Get lost,” I said coldly, each word a blade.
This man had cost me everything, so what's there left to say?
"Emily, Milo died. I was a mess, so I asked Andrew to stay with me. Please don’t be mad," Claire explained, her voice soft yet firm.
Damn. I fancy how talented this girl is sometimes. I mean, look at that!
Her tone was sweet, but her eyes? Pure challenge!
She's practically flaunting that my husband's with her now.
"Wow, lucky you," I said flatly, not giving anything away. "Must be nice to have such a man."
Andrew frowned. "Emily, come on. Milo's death has been hard on Claire, and you're still throwing shade?"
And there goes the knight in shining armor. Funny.
I looked at Andrew, lost for words. I find his protectiveness amusing the most. How many personalities does he have?
Anyway, I sneered and walked past them both.
For the first time, I walked away calmly— no tears, no drama. Two seconds later, there he was, trailing me like a lost puppy.
"Is this about me not bringing Matthew home? Why are you still mad? You're being petty," he hissed.
Always my fault, eh? He screwed up, but somehow, I was the wrong one.
"Yep, all my fault," I said, not even looking at him.
"Listen..." He started, and I rolled my eyes.
Here goes the drama again.