“That’s the same thing to you.”
“And when complaining didn’t work, you packed my belongings?”
“That wasn’t supposed to happen like this.”
“What does that mean?”
Linda stepped forward.
“It means Michael needed space.”
“You’re wearing my robe.”
“It was hanging in the bathroom.”
“In my bathroom.”
“Emily—”
“No. I want to understand this.”
I pointed past Michael.
“You’re inside my condo wearing my clothes while my belongings are in the hallway, and you’re telling me your son needed space?”
Linda’s mouth tightened.
“You have always made him feel like
