Hailey's face showed a flicker of hurt at his tone. But she pressed on, determined to make him understand.
"The ones at home are old," she explained carefully. "And you've moved in now."
"So?" Eric said.
"So how can I let you use the old ones?" Hailey asked. "I want everything to be nice for you."
"The old ones work fine," Eric replied stiffly.
"But these are special," Hailey insisted, holding up the mugs again. "And you should look at these two mugs! They're so cute!"
"They're just mugs," Eric said flatly.
"They're not just mugs," Hailey protested, her voice taking on a pleading quality. "I've been wanting to use couple mugs for a long time. But back then, I didn't have anyone."
The words hung in the air between them, filled with meaning and hope.
Hailey was looking at him with such expectation, such joy at the prospect of this small domestic gesture.
Eric felt something cold settle in his stomach.
"And who told you that I was someone to you?" he asked quietly.
