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Ethan-Dean perches his elbows up on the table and stares at me for a moment. I bet he’s thinking what a loser Stephen is, and wondering why I didn’t leave in the first place. It’s everyone's natural reaction when I tell them the story.
Okay, maybe not everyone, seeing as I’ve only told about five people, not including my family what happened between us. It’s not like I’m this huge movie star yet where everyone cares about my every move.
“But now you’re over him?” I let out a mockingly laugh like he’s crazy for even asking me such an absurd question. “Because for someone who is over their ex, you’re going to some extreme lengths to show that you don’t care.”
“What are you trying to say here, dude?” I demand.
“I’m saying you’re clearly not over your ex-husband.”
My hands curl into fist and I glare at him. “Oh, like you’re clearly over your ex, Mr. Storage Space.”
“But I am over her.”
“Then why is her toothbrush still in your bathroom drawer?”
His face drops. “You went through my stuff?”
I shrug. “Yeah, don’t you look at other’s people’s stuff when you use their bathroom?”
“No,” he snaps. “That’s an invasion of privacy!”
“Oh, sorry. I'll make it up to you. When you come to my place, feel free to roam through my drawers. Just don't look in my top drawer because my panties are there, and that would just be creepy.”