Heath had to scoff when she insisted that it was what was best for Ella. She could tell herself that all she wanted but it wasn't. It wasn't at all. And he would never, could never, accept that.
His hands moved up to run fingers back through his hair with a growl as she started to go on and on about what he was like and how perhaps he would have changed and she couldn't be sure and blah, blah, fucking blah! "And I refuse to fucking listen to another goddamn word that comes out of your fucking mouth!"
"You..." He flexed his hands into a fist and then relaxed them. "Need to leave." He was starting to get angry again. The more he thought about what she had done, the more he loathed her right now. Maybe tomorrow he'd feel different. Doubtful. Next week? Not likely. If she was lucky, he'd be able to look at her again before their daughter, God, that was strange, their daughter, graduated from high school.