John and Pamela both looked over. Pamela hesitated, then greeted her, “Sierra.”
Sierra didn’t even glance at her as she headed straight upstairs. She was afraid that if she looked, she wouldn’t be able to stop herself from lashing out.
“Pamela just said hello. Didn’t you hear her?” John’s voice was cold and distant. “Or have you always been this rude, Ms. Bell?”
Sierra stopped in her tracks.
Ms. Bell?
She turned to look at them, and the words came out sharp. “You’re already cheating in our home, and you still expect me to be polite?”
“This is my house. I’ll do as I please,” John replied calmly. “If you don’t like it, move out.”
Sierra clenched her hands at her sides.
Even though she knew his heart was no longer with her, hearing such cruel words still felt like a knife stabbing her in the chest.
He was the one who had told her this was her home. What belonged to him also belonged to her.
“John, Sierra is still your wife. Isn’t that a bit much?” Pamela tried to mediate.
“I gave her a chance. She’s the one who refused it,” John replied, looking straight at Sierra.
She looked right back at him.
Neither was willing to back down.
“Sierra, why don’t you apologize? If you do, John will surely forgive you,” Pamela said softly, fanning the flames without making it look overt.
“It’s fine. I’m going to move out without your say-so anyway,” Sierra replied, her stubbornness on full display. She ignored Pamela completely. “I can’t stand to stay one more second in a place that reeks of scumbags and homewreckers. It’s going to make me puke.”
She turned and headed upstairs, as if afraid something disgusting might catch up with her.
Bang!

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