"Why do I feel like I got played? Your anger seems to be getting worse and worse?"
Nicole's eyes were very pure, bright and lively. Jose Floyd steadied his thoughts, stood up, and his tall, lean body leaned toward her.
"Even if I dressed wrong, you can't just hit people!" Nicole watched him come closer and shrank back, panic and confusion written all over her face.
"Who hit you! I don't hit women!"
Jose Floyd's face darkened. He walked over, grabbed her wrist, and dragged her toward the bedroom.
"Jose, don't be mad, okay? Look, once you get mad, the food doesn't even taste good. I clearly could have eaten two bowls of rice today, but with that cold face of yours sitting there, I didn't even dare have a second bowl." Nicole softly coaxed the man whose expression was black and gloomy.
"Go to sleep." Jose Floyd lifted the quilt, his face still cold. "I'll count to three. One... two..."
Nicole kicked off her slippers and whooshed onto the bed, her movements quick.
