Maya

I haven’t spoken to Richard since the argument yesterday. I refuse to call it a fight. We barely know each other. How can we be fighting?

I also haven’t talked to Bart since yesterday, either, but for some reason, that’s not bugging me. It’s how we roll. He was gone yesterday, helping a friend with his car, and by the time he made it home I was at the bar. I slept in this morning, more as an effort to avoid Richard in the house, and only woke up once when Bart left a goodbye peck on my cheek before heading to work himself.

My stomach has been in knots all morning. Why the hell was Richard so angry? I thought we were getting along. I didn’t do anything wrong. In fact, I was mowing his fucking grass, and the next thing I know he’s ripping into me like…