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I picked the room Owen had used earlier and slammed the door

I’d like to say it o open and slam shut the door another forty times and I still wouldn’t feel better I wasn’t pissed at Owen

No, I was sort of pissed at Owen I was pissed at how he and Mavis seemed to have a connection I’d never understand I wasn’t stupid I knew they’d slept together That wasn’t why I was mad at him

Was it? No

I was pissed at this whole situation Every single bit of it I hated feeling lost and out of ivenit open

"And I want ain

I was really tired of feeling helpless I kicked the little table next to the bed

It fell apart as if it was made of paper The lalass scattering across the old carpet

"Oh, shit" I stepped carefully through the glass and tried to pick up the table One of the legs fell back to the floor "Well, fuck"

"Ava?" Owen knocked on the door

"What?" I leaned the rest of the table against the wall and kicked solass under the bed

"Are you okay?" It sounded like he was leaning against the door and listening

"I’ a discussion with the furniture" I picked up the remains of the picture frahed It was in three pieces all held together by the cord that ran through the center It was a lost cause There was nothing to do for it but sing some hymns and bury it If only I had a roll of Owen’s duct tape

He cleared his throat outside the door "I brought your gun"

I walked over to the door and pulled it open with le fro in the little hall, both hands by his side A sht

"And you brought yours Are we dueling? Pistols at sunset?" I held out un

"I didn’t mean to upset you"

I looked at him Hoas I supposed to explain that I’d just thrown a spectacular te pathetic? I’d broken some sick old man’s lamp