"Hu... Hunn," Isla found herself faltering as her gaze fixed on the image of her and Damien from eight years ago, sharing a bed. Her eyes batted repeatedly, wondering how Gareth had that picture in his phone."When were you ever planning to tell me about this?" His question came in; his voice was calm, but it carried firmness.Isla shook her head. "I... I was going to tell—""Bullshit!" he barked, and next came the sound of shattering glass. He had just pushed down everything that was on the dining table.Isla gasped, stepping back to avoid the glass pieces. She raised her wide, surprised eyes to him, hoping to see some sort of regret, but there wasn’t any. His eyes were bloodshot soulless, remorseless.He pointed his trembling finger at her. "We've been together for eight years, fucking eight years, Isla!" he roared. "And you can't even tell me this? I fucking told you everything about me!"Something was wrong with Gareth. He didn’t yell; he didn’t cuss. She was too shocked to respon
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