"Ford, tell me why? How is that woman better than me? She's old and brings a son? How long have you two been together? Celebrating birthdays and posting disgusting videos online? Ford, do you have any shame left!"
"Clara... let me explain, it's not what you think!"
Ford reached out to grab me, and I felt a wave of goosebumps; I didn't want him to touch me at all.
"Get away from me! Don't touch me! You disgusting jerk!"
I lost control and stood up, smashing the vase on the floor.
The glass shattered, just like my remaining sanity and dignity.
"Do you think I wanted this?"
My outburst only fueled Ford's own rising anger.
In over ten years of knowing him, I had never seen him like this.
"Clara Shaw, do you think I wanted this? I'm being forced into it; I'm practically being driven to my death!"
He kicked a chair, overturned a table, and then crouched down, holding his head.