I don’t want to wake up for college. I barely move as I hear his voice from downstairs. My head feels muggy and my p***y feels sore, and all I want to do is curl up with him and talk about butterflies, but Daddy Nick doesn’t do days off.
He’s already dressed so smartly for work. Already cooking my breakfast.
I eat slowly, my eyes still heavy with sleep, and he smiles and calls me lazybones, then leaves me to clear our plates as he finishes getting ready to leave.
I startle as he claps his hands in front of my face, and I’m still in the same position at the table, my breakfast plate still empty in front of me.
“Chop-chop, sweetheart, we’re late. We can’t be late, Laine.”
His voice is stern and filled with irritation, and I feel mortified to have disappointed him in such a silly way. I
