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Abigail collapsed the second her daughter stomped up the stairs. Her shoulders sunk down, and she let out a sigh. “I don’t know what to do with her,” she whispered and sat down on the stairs.

He knew he should go over there, sit down, and put his arm around her, but he didn’t want to. After having seen her like that, being so cold to her daughter, there wasn’t an ounce of him that wanted to comfort her. Then he saw the tear running down her cheek.

He was at her side in two big strides, pulling her into his chest, enveloping her in a hug. “I just, she is so exhausting, I don’t know what to do,” she whispered. Her whole body was shaking, but what he first thought was regret for treating her daughter like that, soon turned out to be something else. Because she wasn’t crying because she was scared about her daughter’s future, she wasn’t crying because she felt bad for calling her stupid, no. She was crying because she felt sorry for herself.

He wanted to let go of her right then, but somehow he found himself unable to loosen his grip on her. There was no way he could pull away now, not when she was finally showing emotion. Not when he felt that small felling in his chest, like he was shaking, the one he misinterpreted as love.

“Shh, everything is going to be okay.” He whispered, but as he let the words spill out of his mouth, he felt her stiffening. She fought her way out of his arms, and looked him straight in the eyes, their cold, brown colour burning holes in his skin. “I know everything is going to be okay, don’t patronise me.”

She stood up, abruptly leaving him alone on the floor. Why did she have to push him away every time they seemed to come a bit closer?

He never imagined himself in this situation. He always thought that by now, he would have found his one true love, and that they would live happily ever after in a messy apartment where they would have spontaneous dance parties at midnight. He always thought he would find someone he could argue with, someone who would get angry at him for not closing the fridge, someone he could wrap his arms around whenever he wanted, without being scared of being pushed away. He always thought that by now, he would have found that person. But as it turned out, he hadn’t.

“Are you coming?” her sharp voice cut through the room, and he snapped out of his miserable thoughts. “What?”

“Are you coming or not? I promised you we would finish that kiss later, didn’t i?”

In that moment, there was nothing he wanted less than going into that room with her, but there was no escape, so he got up and followed her up the stairs.

Daddy issues || h.sWhere stories live. Discover now