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A Cold Reception
Last Updated:
2024-07-28 22:47:54
Tummy I am also confused XoXo🥰
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The first rays of morning light filtered through the sheer curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. I stirred awake on the hard floor, the blanket I’d used as a makeshift bed bunched around me. As I blinked away the remnants of sleep, I realized I was being watched. My heart skipped a beat as I looked up to find Mr. Nelson standing over me, his gaze intense and unwavering. “Why did you sleep on my floor?” he asked, his voice devoid of any warmth or emotion. It was a question that seemed to cut right through me, exposing my vulnerability and discomfort. I scrambled to my feet, my mind racing. “I’m sorry,” I stammered, bowing deeply and repeatedly. My face burned with embarrassment, and I could feel the heat of my own shame. I hadn’t expected to be caught in such a compromising position, and the boss’s scrutiny only made it worse. Mr. Nelson’s expression remained impassive. “Okay,” he said, his voice as flat as ever. “Make me something to eat and go take a shower. You look a m
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As Mr. Nelson’s commanding voice sliced through the heavy silence, I felt a shiver run down my spine. “Jake, we need to talk.” The authority in his tone left no room for misinterpretation. I nodded, unable to speak, my throat dry with anxiety. Each step towards the house felt like a mile, the weight of the conversation pressing heavily on me. I led him inside, my heart racing with every footfall.When we reached my room, I hesitated before opening the door. The room, once a refuge, now felt like a cage, burdened with the remnants of last night’s events. I opened the door and stepped aside, allowing Mr. Nelson to enter. I followed him in and sat down on the edge of my bed, trying to steady my nerves. My hands were clammy, and I avoided his gaze as he began to walk around the room, methodically taking pictures with his phone.The room, with its disheveled bed and scattered clothes, seemed like a stark reminder of my mistakes. I watched anxiously as Mr. Nelson’s gaze scanned the mess. Ea
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When we got home, I took Philip by the hand and led him to the living room. Richard followed closely behind, a concerned look etched on his face. I sat down on the couch and gently pulled Philip onto my lap, wiping the remnants of tears from his cheeks. "Hey, buddy," I said softly, trying to catch his gaze. "What’s wrong? Why were you crying today? You know you can talk to me." Philip looked up at me, his eyes still watery, and whimpered. "My classmate said... his father said that... people who have two dads are disgusting." His voice wavering as he spoke, and my heart broke at his words. I felt a surge of protective anger but pushed it down, focusing on comforting my son. "Oh, Philip," I said, pulling him close. "I'm so sorry you had to hear that." Philip continued, his small voice trembling. "I didn’t like the way he was talking about you and Daddy. But you always says not to fight, so I didn’t want to fight him." I hugged him tightly, trying to shield him from the hurt. "Y
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"Babe, look at what you’ve done to my shirt. Now everyone’s going to know we did something before coming here," I said, trying to smooth out the wrinkles on my shirt. Richard just looked at me with that teasing glint in his eye, smirking. "Well, I wanted you and I had you. is that so bad. You are my husband, so I have every right to," if anyone has a problem with that they can resign, he said, his voice dripping with satisfaction. "Stop it," I muttered, feeling my cheeks heat up. "Stop looking at me like that." I turned my eyes to the window, trying to hide my smile. Richard chuckled, reaching out to touch my shoulder. "I'm sorry, babe. I'm sorry. Forgive this love of yours." I would think about forgiving you I say as I glanced at the dashboard clock and felt a jolt of panic. "Shit, we’re ten minutes late!" I exclaimed, hurriedly opening the car door and making a run for the office entrance. Behind me, I could hear Richard laughing as he followed. "Babe, calm down," he called aft
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I stood at the base of the stairs, calling out to my son. "Philip, come here, buddy!" My voice echoed through the spacious house, but there was no response. Suddenly, the pitter-patter of small feet resounded, and I spotted Philip darting around the corner, a blur of energy in his Spider-Man pajamas. "I don't want to go to school! I don't want to go to school!" Philip's voice was high-pitched and insistent, matching his determined expression. I sighed but couldn't help smiling. I started after my son, navigating the maze of furniture with ease. "Philip, stop running around. Come here," I called out again, my tone a mix of patience and authority. Philip giggled and zigzagged away, his small frame darting behind the couch. "Catch me if you can, Papa!" he challenged, his eyes sparkling with mischief. Finally, My husband Richard cornered Philip in the living room, scooping him up and rubbing his belly playfully. Philip burst into a fit of giggles, wriggling in Richard's arms. "Gotcha!
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The sunlight streamed through the courthouse windows, casting a soft, golden glow over the room. Today was the day that Mr. Nelson and I had waited for with bated breath. It was the day of our court wedding—a simple, yet profoundly significant ceremony that marked the culmination of a journey filled with emotional upheavals and personal growth.The courthouse was quiet, its serene atmosphere providing a stark contrast to the chaos and heartache that had marked our recent past. As I stood at the entrance, a sense of euphoria washed over me. The months leading up to this moment had been a whirlwind of healing and reconciliation. We had weathered the storms of argument, pain, and trauma, and today, we were finally able to celebrate the love that had endured despite the trials.Mr. Nelson looked dashing in his tailored suit, his eyes reflecting a joy that had become familiar over the past few weeks. The transformation in him was remarkable. From the cold and distant figure he had once bee
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I woke up to the rhythmic beeping of a heart monitor and the sterile smell of a hospital room. Blinking through the haze of sleep and confusion, I tried to make sense of my surroundings. My arm was hooked up to an IV drip, a steady stream of fluid feeding into me, and the room was bathed in a dim, artificial light. The soft whir of medical equipment was a constant background noise, punctuated by the occasional rustle of fabric.As I struggled to fully awaken, the door to my room creaked open, and I heard the unmistakable sound of someone rushing in. My mother burst into view, her face a mixture of relief and anguish. Her eyes were red-rimmed and wet with tears, and her expression spoke volumes of the worry she had carried over the past days. She hurried to my bedside, her movements frantic yet tender.“Jake!” she exclaimed, her voice trembling. “Oh, Jake, you’re awake!” She reached out and grasped my hand, her fingers cold but firm. The intensity of her relief made me feel an immediat
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The room was shrouded in darkness, the faint light from the street barely penetrating the heavy curtains. It had been days since I had last left the confines of this bed, and my world had shrunk to the size of these four walls. The weight of my despair felt almost tangible, pressing down on me as I lay huddled beneath the covers.I had been crying for what felt like an eternity. The tears had become a constant companion, their salty trails marking my face as I lay motionless. Every time I thought I might stop, a new wave of anguish would rise, dragging me further into the depths of my sorrow. I had not spoken to anyone, had not eaten, and had not even moved from this spot. The only contact with the outside world was the muffled sound of footsteps and voices drifting in from the rest of the house.Today, I heard my mother’s voice again, softer than usual, carrying a note of deep concern that I couldn't ignore even through my numbness. “Jake, dear, I brought you some food. You haven’t e
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Jake stood rigid, his hands clenched tightly at his sides. The opulence of the mansion seemed to close in around him, its grandeur a stark contrast to the turmoil boiling within. Mr. Nelson’s critical gaze was unyielding, a relentless weight pressing down on Jake’s chest. The room was suffocating, each second stretching into eternity as Jake struggled to find his voice. “Mr. Nelson, I—” Jake’s voice wavered, faltering under the intensity of his emotions. He took a deep breath, trying to steady the whirlwind of anxiety and guilt tearing through him. “I need to tell you something important.” Mr. Nelson’s eyes narrowed, his impatience palpable. “Yes, what is it? I’m listening. Go ahead.” Jake’s heart raced, each beat echoing in his ears. The enormity of what he was about to reveal felt like an unbearable weight. He drew in another shaky breath, trying to compose himself. His mind swirled with the enormity of his confession, a confession that he feared would shatter the fragile sembla
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The soft glow of the bedside lamp cast long shadows across the room as I lay curled up in bed, my thoughts raced in a disjointed whirlwind, struggling to make sense of Clara’s unexpected presence and Mr. Nelson’s indifference. A gentle knock on the door startled me from my restless reverie. I quickly wiped my eyes, hoping to conceal the evidence of my tears. The door creaked open slowly, and Clara’s silhouette appeared in the doorway. Her presence was both surprising and disconcerting. “Clara?” I managed to croak out, my voice cracking with emotion. Clara stepped into the room, her demeanor composed and serene. Her eyes, though soft, held a look of determination. “Jake, I hope I’m not intruding,” she said, her voice soothing yet firm. “I wanted to talk to you for a moment.” I sat up in bed, my heart racing with a mix of anxiety and apprehension. “What’s this about?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady. The last thing I needed was another complication in an already tumultuous d
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As the front door of the mansion swung open, Jake stepped inside, feeling a mixture of relief and anticipation. The day had been long and intense, filled with high-stakes meetings and a whirlwind of emotions. The warmth of the house was a welcome contrast to the cold professionalism of the office. Jake hoped for a quiet evening to decompress, but fate had other plans.The moment Jake crossed the threshold, he was greeted by the unexpected sight of a woman who looked strikingly similar to Mr. Nelson. She was tall, with the same piercing eyes and high cheekbones that Jake had come to associate with Mr. Nelson. Her presence was commanding yet elegant, and Jake’s curiosity was immediately piqued.He blinked, momentarily taken aback. “Um, hello. Who might you be?”The woman turned to him, her expression a mix of curiosity and surprise. Before she could respond, Mr. Nelson entered behind Jake, his gaze immediately locking onto the woman.“Mom, what are you doing here?” Mr. Nelson’s voice wa
