I was scared. I was scared that he wouldn't come home and that he would. I had never seen him like that. He had actually slammed the door. Purposely, purposefully slammed it. He was mad with anger; his face proved it. His eyes, though, his eyes revealed the hurt. He accused me and I dismissed him. I lied as long as I thought I could get away with it and I finally barked back at him,
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