Not acceptable
Straight to the fucking point.
Yikes.
Pressing down harder, I murmured, probably sounding way less interested than I meant to, "Fuck."
He sighed, leaning in again, his hands clenched, his forehead resting against them. "You know what? I think I need to just let it out." He took a deep breath, shaking his hands, seeming to hesitate. "Do you realize how you left me? We didn't even try to make things work."
"But—"
He cut me off, continuing, "Yes, some crazy fucking shite was happening. But—how do you deal with that? I couldn't even talk to anyone about it or they would have committed me." He shook his head, glancing on me. "Sorry, I know it's not a joke."
"Don't worry. I'm sure it's the nicest thing you're going to say today." I took another swig from the almost empty bottle on the table; leaning it out, I offered it to him.
