Cloette’s POV:
I glide from the table as my heart commands me to calm Lavine down, but my feet are stuck on the floor. I can’t come closer to him. Am I scared? No, it’s just that I don’t know what to tell him to appease his anger. In addition to that, it’s me who’s causing him so much suffering.
“Dad!”
He slides his phone from his ear and tosses it on the kitchen counter. Then, he clutches the corner of the marbled counter as he leans his weight on it. Though I’m looking at his broad back and can’t see his face, his shaking veiny hands reveal the emotions that are racking up in his chest.
“Lavine,” I say.
My voice hitches but it’s loud enough for him to hear. Still and all, he refuses to show his face to me. I lift my foot, it twitches. I thrust my leg, it trembles. With hesitation,
