I wanted to call his mother immediately. But Emma caught my hand.
“Please don’t, Mom. I don’t want him to break up with me.”
That sentence troubled me more than Tyler’s criticism.
My daughter was already afraid that standing up for herself might cost her the relationship.
That evening, Emma came downstairs wearing a thick sweatshirt despite the warm weather.
Daniel noticed immediately.
“Getting cold, Em?”
“No, Dad.”
He watched her tug the sleeves over her hands.
“Something bothering you?”
Emma glanced at me before reluctantly explaining what Tyler had said.
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