I chose to ignore his question, focusing instead on Hailey. My tone was dripping with sarcasm as I addressed her. "If you didn’t know that this was our bedroom, you’d probably think we were kicking you out of it."

Hailey’s face flushed with anger, not embarrassment. Her eyes narrowed and she stamped her foot in frustration. "Oh, Chris! Look at your wife—how does she speak to me like that?" Her voice was sharp, filled with indignation.

"Don’t I know I’ve made a mistake? I’m trying to make room for you and yet, you’re still treating me like this!" She pouted, her voice quivering with a mixture of hurt and resentment.

Her melodramatic display of grievance was almost laughable and I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. Did she really think this act was endearing or convincing?

As Chris started to speak, likely trying to mediate, I gave him a pointed look, signaling him to be quiet. He hesitated, clearly unsure of how to handle the situation.

"Do you know you’re wrong?" I asked, my voice cold and mocking. I let out a short, harsh laugh. "If you truly understood your mistake, you’d have the decency to leave my house."

My gaze was unwavering as I fixed Hailey with a chilling stare. I wanted her to understand that her presence and the pretense of remorse were both unwelcome and unacceptable.

Chris’s expression changed to one of distress and frustration. He whispered urgently, "Yasmine, you’re going too far!" His voice was low, but it carried a note of desperation.

I chuckled softly, finding his reaction amusing. "Going too far? Look at you, why are you so anxious?" I said, walking up to him and adjusting his shirt with a dismissive gesture, almost as if he were a child needing correction. "Don’t worry, I won’t make her move to another room."

I turned away from them, my tone final and dismissive. "Such a disgusting place—one in my house is more than enough. By the way, you’ll be sleeping in another room tonight. Don’t bother me."

I didn’t look back as I walked away, leaving my words hanging in the air. Chris stood there, frozen and embarrassed, not making any move to stop me. His silence confirmed his discomfort and resignation. If he had tried to follow me or plead for my forgiveness, I might have felt conflicted, but as it stood, I felt a grim satisfaction in having asserted my authority and drawn a clear line in the sand.