#Chapter 90: Zoe’s House

Hannah I was so stunned that I nearly dropped my plate and mug. Somehow, I managed to keep a hold on it—maybe only because of the way that my knuckles instinctively tightened until they turned white. “You’re kidding me,” I hissed, taking a trembling step forward. Noah popped his spoonful of cereal into his mouth and shook his head. “No. I want to be there for her, and you should come with me.” “Why?” I let out a wry laugh. “Why should I come with you?” “Because it would be nice, Hannah.” Noah, having finished his cereal, stood and walked over to the sink to rinse out his bowl. I watched the broad expanse of his back as he worked, very much feeling the desire to hurl my coffee cup at him. Nice. I didn’t want to be ‘nice’. I was tired of being the nice wife who got walked all over. “I’m not going.” I carefully set my plate and mug down on the counter, suddenly feeling as though what little appetite I had regained had swiftly left. Goddess,