“Carlie.”
She takes a long moment before looking up from her book. “Hmm?”
“I just… I’m sorry for saying what I did.” His voice is soft, docile. “I wish I hadn’t said it. I was just angry.”
“Sure.”
“Do you forgive me, babe?” He is not a good actor, never was. The only parts he gets, he gets because of her.
She can taste his insincerity: she knows that he just wants money or the keys to the Lambo or to score some coke from her connection. But she is tired, and the house is big and empty. “Sure, darling.”
***
Title by: Lyra
Story by: David
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