"Who made you cry?" she asked nonchalantly, sipping from her tea.
"It's none of your business!" I snapped.
"See, you're in no position to talk to me that way when you just cried for a man."
"What?!" I spat in anger. This lady was getting on my nerves, and I didn't care who she was or what she planned to do to me.
I sharply dropped the mug on the table and stood up. "Listen, I'm done, and I'm leaving," I spat, attempting to make my exit.
"I still haven't given you permission to leave," her voice stopped me.
"I don't care," I uttered. "You can do whatever you want," I said and continued to walk away.
"I'm sorry," she apologized softly, catching me off guard. She had never used that tone to speak to me since we met.
Feeling angry again, I mustered, "Be sorry for yourself," in a way that she wouldn't hear, and moved to the bed to lay down.
