Claiming My Father’s Best Friend
The tears spill over, hot and uncontrollable.
I feel them streaming down my face as I whisper, “Please, just take me home. I can’t do this. I just want to sleep.”
Lily pulls me from her arms. “Oh, no. You’re not doing this. You’re not going home just to cry yourself into a soggy mess and spend the night wallowing in self-pity. Absolutely not.”
I shake my head, desperate. “Lily, please—”
“Stop right there,” she interrupts, her tone firm. “You know what? Fuck Jordan. You hear me? Fuck. Him.” She grabs my chin, forcing me to look her in the eye.
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