“You don't say?” I muttered, more flabbergasted than hurt. Why would I even be hurt? “And how does that concern me?” I folded my arms to my chest, returning my stern demeanour.
“I mean the circumstance as it is where he's sending flowers to your house,” he pursed his lips suspectedly, shrugging, “I thought it might be of your interest to know you'll be interfering with a marriage in the worst way possible.”
“I'm not interfering in Jack, I'm as clean as it gets,” I said dryly.
“Then why is a married man sending you flowers?” He questioned, an eyebrow raised suspectedly at me.
I began to stutter, wasting a bit more time than needed with my lack of words to fit the situation, “I don't need to be explaining anything to you, Mr Yavol. We aren't together, I don't need to know the happenings
