My shocked brain is playing through the same words over and over. It can’t be true. Dad would never do something like that. But he did. And beneath the shock, something else is beginning to burn. Anger. I stare unblinking at Adam’s cupboard doors as tears slowly distort my vision. I hear Adam saying goodnight to his friends. They all traipse outside. The front door closes and Adam’s footsteps move towards his bedroom. He stops in the doorway. Sighs. “Livi, do we have to do this—” His words falter. “What’s wrong?” “My dad,” I say, my voice coming out strangely hoarse. I’m still staring at the cupboard doors, but they’re swimming now. Swimming through furious, unshed tears. Adam is across the room in a second, sitting on the bed and leaning towards me. “What happened? Is he okay?” My head moves slowly from side to side.
What do You think about The Trouble With Flirting?
