Angry

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"Why didn't you tell me that you were looking for your mother!? I had to find out off of Kate, that my own husband didn't tell me something really significant and important in his life, that has meaning!" I was walking quickly across the room, panting and shouting at him. He had sat back down and endured my frustration.

"Have you finished?" He asked. I looked to him and he was rounding his desk, coming closer and closer to me, watching me like I was a bomb, about to explode.

"How long?" A dumbfounded look crossed his face.

"How long what?"

"How long have you been trying to find her?!" I tapped my foot angrily, repeatedly against the floor.

"About 3 weeks."

"Three weeks? You have been trying to find her, and you haven't told me...What else haven't you told me?Is there another woman?Have you got a mental health problem, that I need to know about?"

"Ana.Stop!There is no other woman. I have no mental health problem and I meant to tell you, I just couldn't find the right time..."

"Couldn't find the right time! What between, us having a weekend away, a night alone and today...You couldn't find the right time to tell me!"

"Please forgive me Ana, I never meant to hurt you."

"I can't forgive you, right now. I'm sorry Christian." I turned and walked out the door. He chased after me, this made me run. I ran upstairs and locked myself in the bedroom. He pounded on the door.

"Ana!Ana!Ana!Please open the door!" I sunk against the back of the door and went to my knees. I hugged my calfs and cried. A tear strolled down my cheek. It was a petty thing to get upset over, but this is Christian. My husband. He should have told me, I am not buying his crap, that he couldn't find the right time. What did I do to deserve this?

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