I'm writing poems about you... And they aren't very nice

Cory couldn't help it. He came home to have a fight with the garage wall. Of course, the brick wall won and left him with bloody knuckles.
.
He was so mad. Consumed, burning with a fit of anger. How could Allie leave him in the dark so long.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Of course, his hand was in pain, and he was glad Sage didn't see the fit he pulled, and he'd spared Allie too.

"Because." She could barely get the words out. "What am I suppose to do? Its out of my hands. I-I gave the baby up." She scowled as if she couldn't make an effort. Why should she be the one to explain?

"I don't even understand." Cory squinted hard wishing his fist didn't feel so bad. "Its like I don't even know you."

Instantly, he upset Allie. She went into the other room. She couldn't bare to look at him.

"Sometimes, I don't think you know how to even feel." He felt himself crumbling, like an earth quake inside him. He couldn't stay here, but it was his house.

His teeth gnashed as he watched her unravel. How could something from the past be so haunting, he guessed. Cory could only imagine how it might have been if they'd had kids of their own. Just how would she be?

Cory shook his head. He didn't even want to know. He shut the front door behind him. He was too numb to even fight the cold. A part of him never wanted to see Allie, again.