Forgiven

“Avery, what are we really doing here?” Jeff asks irritably after we finally get out of the crowded airport.

The States is very different from France, and I must say, I prefer living in France, although, I’ve missed being home. I am finally home.

I look at his frowning face and act cute on him, “Babe, please, stop asking questions, I have a surprise for you, okay? Trust me on this!” I try to convince him while clinging my arms at him.

However, he still hasn’t gotten over the fact that I lied to him about my encounter with Dmitri so he distances himself to me and untangles my arms. But I am too stubborn and didn’t let him do so.

“Come on, please, you’ll soon forgive me,” I even press my body at him and I can sense the effect on him. But he still chooses not to even look at me.

From the moment I’d arrived home, up to now, we haven’t had a single decent conversation. It is more on him scowling, or me, avoiding his questions.

But I keep on irritating him, hoping that he would forgive