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“There. Now he knows you’re not in a ditch somewhere, at least.” She cracks a smile. I can’t help but follow her lead and a second later, we’re both giggling. My phone rings again, effectively shutting us both up. I just stare down at Ryan’s picture on the screen while I wait for it to go to voicemail.

“You know what?” Addy says and I look up at her. “Let’s go shopping.” She nudges me with her shoulder and I grin despite myself.

I seriously don’t know what I would do without this girl.

Addy and I spend a couple hours at the mall, window shopping, and my mood does improve. But as soon as I pull into my driveway, a rock takes up residence in the pit of my stomach. I just stare at the front door, trying to work up the courage to go in… or run away — I’m honestly not sure which. I sit for what feels like hours before I come to a decision.

I love Ryan and I just need to go in there and talk to him. I’ll tell him how much he hurt me and we’ll work it out.

With newfound confidence, I throw open the car door and walk up to the house. Inside, I notice that the place is spotless, the scent of soap from the washing machine hanging in the air.

“What the heck?” I whisper to myself.

A noise rings out from the kitchen, startling me and I head in that direction. Along the way, I notice that there isn’t a speck of dust on anything. Did some magical cleaning fairy descend from heaven and invade my home? In the kitchen, my eyebrows shoot up in surprise at the sight of Ryan scraping food off the wall where he threw his plate last night.

“Uh…hi,” I say and his head shoots up. Before I know what’s happening, he jumps up and throws his arms around me.

“I didn’t know if you were gonna come back,” he admits as he releases a breath and his entire body relaxes.

“We need to talk.”

I feel his muscles go rigid.

“Okay.” He releases me and follows me into the living room. We sit on opposite ends of the couch, just staring at each other in silence.

“What happened last night wasn’t okay.”

He nods his head. “I know I lost my temper, baby.” Is he kidding? He did a whole lot more than lose his temper.

“It was more than that. I was scared of you last night. I thought you might hurt me.”

“I love you, baby, but you are so damn dramatic,” he says with a soft chuckle. I can feel myself getting angry again and I close my eyes, mentally counting to ten to calm myself back down.

“You called me stupid and a bitch. You hurt my arm!”

“You’re crazy. I didn’t call you stupid and I didn’t hurt you. I barely touched you.”

I gape at him. “Are you serious right now?”

“Show me your arm,” he demands.

“What?”

“If I hurt you so badly, then show me your arm.”

I rip off my sweater and hold my arm out to him. He studies it before looking at me with a furrowed brow.

“Baby, there isn’t even a mark. See, this is what I’m talking about. You’re so dramatic and you are making this into a huge deal when it wasn’t. Yes, I lost my temper. I yelled and I threw a plate against the wall and I’m sorry for that, but I didn’t hurt you,” he explains in a soothing tone and I begin to doubt my own memory.

Did I really blow this way out of proportion?

I look down at my arm and even I have to admit that there isn’t a mark there. Did he really call me a bitch? Did he say I was stupid?

“Do you think I’m stupid?”

Shock crosses his face for a second before he shakes his head.

“God! No, baby. You are so gorgeous and kind and smart. It’s one of the reasons that I love you so much,” he says, his eyes soft with love and compassion.