I tapped one of the boxes with my toe. “Isn’t it about time your ex’s things stopped living in my home?”
Spencer's POV
My voice was calm—far too calm compared to the way I’d lost control just a week ago. I watched Dahlia’s expression shift, and before she could speak, I reminded her, “Last week, I asked you something, didn’t I?”
“Dahlia,” I said, serious, trying to jog her memory, “didn’t I tell you that the moment you walked out that door, we were done?”
I took a step toward her.
I saw guilt flicker in her eyes, but I went on, “And what was it you said back then? You said, ‘Break up? Sure. Fine. Let’s break up. Whoever takes it back is an asshole.’ Dahl—”
Before I could finish, she cut me off by kicking one of the boxes hard as frustration surged through her. The dull thud echoed through the room.
Gideon jumped and screamed, “Spencer! What’s your problem?!”