That evening,
Rufus slammed the door behind him with a force that made the windows rattle.
The sound echoed through the apartment, announcing his presence in no uncertain terms.
He tossed his keys onto the side table, where they landed with a clatter, and ran a hand through his hair, disheveling it even more. His face was a mask of barely contained rage.
Lisa looked up from the game she was playing on her phone, her initial smile fading as she took in his expression. She set the phone aside and rose to meet him.
She wondered why he was so worked up and hoped it had nothing to do with Grace.
"Rufus, what's wrong?" she asked gently, placing a hand on his arm. "You look like you've been through hell."
Rufus exhaled sharply, his jaw clenched. "Grace and her new catch," he said, the names dripping with venom. "They just don't know when to stop."