In an apologetic tone, Adrian took the initiative to explain, "Madeline, it's not easy for Sophie to raise a child alone. She doesn't know anyone else here. She only has me."
His words felt like a slap. He conveniently forgot sometimes that, I too, only had him.
"Of course, I understand. She must've been through a lot," I answered calmly.
"Madeline, what's that supposed to mean? What's your attitude?" He lost his temper all of a sudden.
"I said I understand," I repeated, my voice losing its lightness, "Is that a problem?"
"Do you have to talk to me like that?" he snapped.
"Then what do you want me to say?" I countered, frustration creeping in.
Silence fell between us, heavy and suffocating. Finally, he mumbled a defeated, "Do as you wish," before hanging up.
Wasn't it ironic? He once said I was annoying when I questioned him visiting Sophie. And when I called him to ask when he would be back from Sophies's, I was also the annoying one. Now, even trying to understand him earned me his frustration.
With a sigh, I tossed my phone aside. Dwelling on it would not change anything. There was more important thing to do, like a stack of documents in front of me.