"What is this? Bad enough you didn't get rid of her, but now she's wearing my pajamas? That's disgusting. Do you have any idea how unsanitary that is?"
Her reaction was explosive, like a cat whose tail had been stomped on.
"I'm sorry, I'll take them off right now."
Sylvia shot to her feet, panic written across her face. "Please don't fight because of me."
"Don't."
I caught her wrist and kept my eyes forward. "It's a set of pajamas. What's the screaming about? I'll return them tomorrow. I'll buy Sylvia her own."
I still remembered when Boyd first moved in and took a liking to my only custom-tailored suit, one I reserved for important events.
Melanie didn't bother asking me. She put it on Boyd herself. Then Boyd soiled it.
I was furious.
Melanie couldn't have cared less. "God, you're cheap! It's just clothes. Boyd didn't do it on purpose. Wash it yourself and get over it."
The next day, she went out and bought Boyd five custom suits without blinking.
I was so angry my vision blurred.
"Melanie, don't blame Valentine. It's my fault for overstaying my welcome. He's upset, so he hired some actress to get under your skin." Boyd's voice was thick with guilt.