Chapter 24

　　  On Miró Coffee, Dion's trying to explain himself as I cooly sip with my Cappuccino.

　　  "Sweetheart, please, talk to me?"

　　  I put down my cup and turn to face him. "What?"

　　  "You are silent the whole time."

　　  "I have nothing to say," I replied nonchalantly.

　　  He let an exasperated sigh, "Come on, what you saw earlier—"

　　  "Now, that's something." I cut him off, glaring at him. "You have the audacity to do that in front of me, in public, after what we've done last night after you got me. My god, I can't believe you!"

　　  He shifts and pulls his chair beside me. "Sweetheart, I know. I'm sorry,"

　　  Tsk. I shake my head and resume drinking my Cappuccino, and then, later on, we're talking, like nothing happened. Well, maybe that's it, we shouldn't make things like that a big deal to make our relationship healthy.

　　  With that, I changed the subject into something more important, "So, uhm, Dion, with your treatment, let's talk about it."