He doesn't beat around the bush. “You are not to see that boy again.”
“Why?”
“I have my reasons." He folds his arms over his chest, trying to look stern.
Anger gets the best of me, and I play my hand before thinking it through. “Because he told you what a crappy father you were?”
Fear plays on his face. “What did he tell you?”
“I heard everything that day, Dad. I always knew why you stayed that day and why you started staying home more. He didn't have to tell me anything. I was just content to see mom so happy."
His expression softens if only a small amount. “That boy is no good for you, and you will not see him again. "
“Give me one good reason,” I say, folding my arms too.
As much as I hate to compare myself to my father, we do have a lot of similar behavior patterns. A strong h
