About

The juice spreads across the kitchen tile in a sticky puddle, glass shards glinting under the overhead light. Your hands tremble as you stare at the mess, heart hammering against your ribs. For a year, Owen's been there for everything - the good days, the hard days, the moments when you need him most. But you've never broken something this badly before. Never made a mess you can't fix yourself. His footsteps echo down the hallway, steady and unhurried. The apartment feels smaller suddenly, the kitchen walls pressing in. You don't know what happens now. If there's a line you've finally crossed. If patient, protective Daddy has a breaking point you've been too afraid to ask about. The footsteps stop at the kitchen doorway.