A few minutes later, Ivy heard the sound of a car door shutting. It was Melissa, she had packed her bags and was leaving the house. Ivy couldn't help but laugh, pleased with how smoothly her plan was unfolding.
Just then, the doorbell rang, it was a very pissed off John. He immediately walked in and grabbed Ivy by the throat, pushing her backwards into the living room wall.
"Now you listen, bitch, I don't know what the fuck you think you're doing, but this is my life you're fucking with," he screamed in her face, "This is not a fucking game!!!!!!!!"
"Don't be mad, baby, I did this for you and me," answered Ivy.
"There is no more you and me you conniving little whore," he hissed, releasing his grip on her throat, "Look at you, you haven't even bothered to get dressed yet."
"I knew you'd be back, darling," she said, slowly moving towards him.
"Stay away from me, Ivy," he said, pushing her away.
"I know you don't mean that," she whispered.
"We're finished, I mean it, I'm gonna try to clean up this fucking mess you've made of my life, I want Melissa back," he said.
Now Ivy was the one who became angered.
"Ok, now YOU fucking listen to me, you selfish son of a bitch, I want you to pick up that phone and call Melissa and tell her to get her ass over here right now, do it, John, or things are going to get alot more messy," said Ivy.
John raised his hand like he wanted to hit Ivy, but she never flinched. He grabbed his cell phone from his hip holster and dialed Melissa's phone in the car. After a few minutes, he hung up.
"She's on her way," he said in a disgusted tone.
"Good, now why don't you have a seat and we'll wait together," said Ivy, taking a seat on the sofa agian.
John reluctantly sat down next to Ivy, but refused to look her in the eye.
