I got a notification on my phone, and opened it to see it was from Sarah. She sent a picture of her in lingerie with the caption "Newly bought." She must've purchased it while I was having a private mont with Beth. Since I promised to take care of her today, she went all out.
"Shit..." I muttered, hitting my forehead with my palm.
Another notification popped up—this ti from the Horny System—but I decided to check it later.
"Exquisite," I texted back.
Jumping on my bike, I sped ho. My phone rang. It was late, so I already knew who was calling. Reaching into my pocket, I glanced at the screen—Mom.
I picked up. "I'll be back in a few minutes," I said.
"Okay," she replied.
Hanging up, I continued my ride ho, exhaustion weighing on . All I wanted was a long shower. Just as I reached my house, a dark but oddly pleasurable thought rushed through my mind like a speedster. A sly smile crossed my lips as I considered making it happen—but decided to hold off.
As I opened the door, I was greeted by Mom's piercing glare. Her eyes locked onto , sharp and unwavering.
"Where were you?" she demanded.
Sothing was different this ti. There was fear, not just frustration.
"I was out," I replied.
"With who at this ti?" she pressed.
I knew she was just being protective, but her constant questioning about where I went and who I was with was starting to get under my skin.
"An acquaintance," I said.
Her expression darkened. She knew I had no such acquaintances she wasn't aware of.
"Liar. So, where were you?"
I sighed. "Okay." I turned toward my room.
"Tony!" she called after .
"Drop it, Mom. This conversation is going nowhere, and you don't believe anyway," I shot back.
That must have triggered sothing in her, because she followed to my room. As I reached for my door, she stopped, her voice softer but heavy with emotion.
"You wouldn't treat your dad this way," she said.
Then, she turned and walked away, shutting my door behind her.
That statent struck like lightning.
"Why would she say that?" I asked myself aloud, as if the walls might whisper an answer.
Only she knew. I'd get it out of her later. But for now, I needed a shower. Grabbing my things, I headed to the bathroom. A few minutes later, I was done.
As I walked back to my room, I saw Mom coming up the stairs. I paused, intending to talk to her, but she ignored . She walked straight to her room and slamd the door shut. She was still pissed.
I decided to give her space. But then, hunger struck.
After dressing up, I headed to the kitchen, hoping she'd left sothing for . And there it was—laid out on the dinner table like a peace offering. My second favorite dish: Shawarma packed with vegetables, at, and ketchup, served with yogurt.
"What a woman," I thought, smiling as I dug in. Every bite was perfection, and soon, the al was dancing in my belly.
After cleaning up and doing the dishes, I decided to check on my special lady.
Upstairs, I stood in front of her door.
Knock! Knock... No answer.
Knock! Knock! Knock... Still nothing.
I was about to leave but stopped.
A woman will sotis resist—not out of anger, but to test how much you care. Whether it's forgiveness, favors, or sothing else, the key is to pay attention, observe, and listen.
I turned the doorknob. Surprisingly, it was open.
She must have anticipated I'd co knocking. She wanted to talk.
Stepping inside, I saw her lying on the bed, eyes glued to the TV. She acted as if she hadn't noticed , but a sneaky side glance gave her away.
Smirking, I closed the door behind and joined her on the bed, mirroring her posture. For a few minutes, I just sat there, watching the show as intently as she did. Then, I casually reached for her hand.
She pulled it away.
I tried again.
For a second, I caught her smiling—but she quickly forced her face back into a pout.
"What do you want?" she asked, feigning annoyance.
"Nothing," I replied smoothly.
I took her hand again, this ti blowing warm air on it. Playful. Goofy. Teasing.
It took a while, but she finally cracked—a real smile.
The mont I had been waiting for.
"Enjoyed your food?" I asked, my arm slipping over her shoulder.
She didn't shrug it off.
"I'm sorry I worried you today," I said. "I didn't an to."
She looked at with those deep hazel eyes.
" too," she admitted. "I overreacted. Now that you're 18, I should know this is bound to happen."
"That's good," I replied.
But I wasn't done yet.
"What did you an earlier? When you said, 'You wouldn't treat Dad this way'?"
Her expression shifted slightly.
"Oh... nothing, really," she said.
I shot her a look, but I didn't press.
It might be sensitive for her.
"Okay," I said, getting up from the bed.
"Are you leaving?" she asked.
"Yeah, I need to get ready for work tomorrow."
Glancing at the clock on the wall, I realized it was already 20:10.
"Good night," I said, leaning down to kiss her forehead.
"You too," she replied.
Back in my room, I checked my phone. A ssage from Sarah.
"You left starving today."
I smirked and typed back.
"Forgive this lousy Daddy for not feeding his girl. I'll make it up to you."
I shrugged, shoving my hair. 'Lousy daddy, his girl.' I was actually referring to soone old enough to be my mom. But it doesn't matter, in situations like this.
Then, I got her ssage.
"I can't wait. Good night," she replied.
My phone beeped. Battery low.
Plugging it in to charge, I lay on my bed, thinking about tomorrow.
I was excited. First impressions always matter.
I never needed an alarm—I had trained my body and mind to wake up on ti.
Tomorrow would be no different.
As sleep took over, I smiled. A new day will be dawn soon.
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