I’m currently suffering from multiple personality disorder. I flick between anger and worry for him. Raging one minute, crying the next.

Angry because he hurt me, but worried because I know that’s not who he is.

Maybe I’m just a gullible idiot who got played by a player.

As I pull up to my house, I see that my lawn has been mowed. Huh? I pull the car into the driveway and get out to hear the lawn mower going in my backyard.

Who mowed my lawn?

I glance back out to the boys in the middle, and Blake dips his head and waves. “Hi, Juliet.”

“Hi.”

Ugh . . . stop acting nice, you gangbanger. Chloe’s way too good for you.

I walk through my side gate to see Henley pushing the lawn mower at double speed over my lawn. He’s walking so fast and pushes it straight over a garden bed and shreds the plants.

“What are you doing?” I cry.

He keeps mowing at double speed, his head down, his skin glistening with perspiration.

“Henley,” I call.

He doesn’t look up and mows over another plant.

That’s it.

I storm over to him. “Stop!” I cry.

He looks up, and his step falters.

“What the hell are you doing?” I yell.

“Mowing your lawn. What does it fucking look like? It’s a disgrace,” he growls.

I put my hands onto my hips, infuriated. “You’re running over my plants.”

“Weeds,” he yells over the lawnmower.

“Go home,” I yell.

“What?” He pretends to be unable to hear me.

In a senseless rage, I look around at the carnage of my garden and the three plants he has chopped to pieces.

“Go home!” I point toward his house. “Do not mow my fucking lawn ever again.”

I have never, ever met a more infuriating person. I’m so close to punching him in the face right now that it isn’t even funny.

I push him away from the lawn mower, and he stumbles back, and I turn it off.

“Go home,” I yell.

“What do you expect me to do? Your grass is ruining the entire streetscape. We are all sick of it,” he spits through gritted teeth.

Something inside my brain snaps, and I want to lash out and hurt him. “You’re a fucking controlling neat freak, and I will not stand for it.”

His eyes bulge from their sockets. “What did you say?” he sneers.

“You heard me. Go the fuck home.” I turn and march back to my house, and I realize my back door is locked. Damn it, my keys are still in my car around the front.

Ugh!

I storm around the front with him hot on my heels. “You did not just say that to me,” he yells. “I am not a neat freak.”

“Yes, I did, and yes, you are.” I open my car and grab my keys. “Go away, Henley. You are a fucking nightmare.” I slam the car door shut and march to the front door.

“Don’t you fucking dare call me names.” He follows me inside.

“I’ll call you whatever I want.”

He slams the door shut behind him. “Listen to me. You keep your fucking lawn in order or move the fuck out,” he fumes. “I will not live next to a derelict house.”

“What?” I explode. “My grass wasn’t even long.”

“Yes, it was.” His eyes are bulging, and the veins are sticking out of his forehead. “You owe me a thank-you.”

“For what?” I explode. “For chopping up my fucking plants?”

“They were weeds.”

“You’re a fucking weed. Go home!”

“Suits me fine.” He turns toward the door. “You’re an ungrateful wench.”

“Henley,” I call.

He turns back to face me. “You’re a self-centered fucking asshole, do you know that?”

He narrows his eyes and steps toward me. “Do not blame me for your delusional little love affair.”

“What the hell does that mean?” I explode. Adrenaline is surging through my body. My heart is hammering in my chest.

He screws up his face and in a whiny-little-girl voice says, “I love you, Henley.” He glares at me, contempt dripping from his every pore. “You had to go and ruin everything, didn’t you?”

I stare at him, shocked.

“Wow . . .”

His eyes hold mine, and he lifts his chin to the sky in defiance, as if goading me into a fight.

The stupid tears well in my eyes again. Stop it.

“At least one of us loves you,” I whisper. “Because you sure don’t.”

His jaw clenches.

“Is this . . .” I try to articulate my words. “Is this how you treat people who care about you, Henley?”

He glares at me.

“Yes.” I hold my hands up in surrender. “I won’t apologize for being myself.”

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what? Don’t be human? Don’t hold someone dear who means something to me?”

He twists his lips in anger.

“I am about two minutes from walking out of your life forever. What have you got to say about that?” I snap.

His eyes rise to meet mine. They’re cold and hard. “Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.”

Oh . . .

He turns and, without another word, leaves. I screw up my face in tears. My heart races out of control.

Fuck.

Tuesday night

I stare at my face in the bathroom mirror. The green mud mask needs to do miracles tonight.

I’ve never felt so bad.

Barry can sense my heartache and hasn’t left my side. He’s the best little friend ever.

I am officially sworn off men. I hate them all.

Knock, knock, knock sounds from downstairs.

Was that the door?

Knock, knock, knock sounds again.

What?

Who is that? I tiptoe down the stairs and see Rebecca at the front door.

What in the world? I open the door in a rush. “Hi. What’s wrong?”

“Let’s go,” she snaps.

“What?”

“It’s time. I put an AirTag in his car, and he’s still not home from work. He’s at a restaurant on the south side. Time to bust a move. Let’s fucking go.”

My eyes widen. “Oh shit.” Okay. “I have to wash my face mask off. Give me one minute.”

“I’ll get the car,” she snaps.

I take the stairs two at a time. Oh crap. This could be bad. Please don’t be doing anything wrong. “Fuck, I hate men.” I wash my face mask off at record speed and pull a sweater over my flannel pajamas. I pull on my sneakers. “Back soon, Barry.” I run out the front, where Rebecca is waiting in her car.

I bounce in, and she takes off before I’ve even closed my car door. “What’s happened?” I whisper as I look between her and the very quickly oncoming road.

“He’s cheating, I know he is.” She takes the corner, and we nearly lift onto two wheels.

I hang on for dear life as she drives like a maniac. “What’s the plan?” My eyes flick between her and the road once more. “Do we have a plan?”

Please don’t let us go to jail tonight.

“I just want to wait and catch him in the act. If I don’t see it with my own eyes, I know he will never admit it.”

“Okay.” I nod as I cling onto my seat belt. “Probably should slow down, though, babe.” We take another corner, and the tires screech. I close my eyes in fear.

Fuck, we’re so going to die.