I pressed on, as I don't like guessing. Imagining things makes me fall apart.
Olly was in a great mood and answered vaguely, saying that tonight we could add a chicken leg.
Because he had been promoted again, we could celebrate with the kids.
I didn't know where the chicken legs came from. Olly transferred money and asked me to go buy them.
Fine, I'll go buy them. He's really gotten used to ordering me around.
I glared at him, and he grinned and pushed me. I put on a mask, grabbed my phone, and went out.
Olly is still generous to the three of us, never cutting back on the money for groceries and living expenses.
I walked quickly to the nearest market and ran into the girl who had come to the house earlier. She was holding a takeout box of lobsters and happened to bump into me.
"Senior, are you buying vegetables? I'm Zoe Ball. Tonight, Olly is having lobster at my place. You might want to buy less."
What does she call me?
I stood at the market, feeling dizzy and disoriented, with tears unexpectedly welling up in my eyes.
I'm only thirty-five, yet I'm called a "Senior" by twenty-something girls?
I felt a surge of anger and a metallic taste of blood in my mouth.