Page 26 of River Wild

I want to say something. But I don’t know what.

I’m not good at confrontation.

But, if I was going to say something, I don’t get the chance because he gives me one last look of disdain before he turns abruptly and walks inside his house, the door slamming loudly behind him.

Leaving me still standing here, mouth wide open in shock.

Twice in one day, he’s done this to me.

Twice, he’s been rude to me and then just walked away.

Gah! I really, really dislike this guy!

I stomp up my front pathway, let myself inside my house, dump my bags on the kitchen table, and let out a sound of frustration.

Ugh!

I swear to God, the next time he says something mean to me, I’m going to tell him exactly what I think of him.

Maybe.

I mean, I don’t want to cause any trouble or bring any unnecessary attention to myself.

No! Stop being a coward.

You’ve spent the last seven years being belittled and hurt by a man.

No more.

So, the next time that guy speaks out of turn to me, he’s getting the same right back.