I confess everything.
I hold nothing back.
It feels liberating to not have to keep that secret from her. No more lies, no more sneaking out, no more guilt.
I expect her to freak out, or ground me, or ship me off to an uninhabited island like Paris' parents but she's taking everything well…at least well enough that she hasn't had a heart attack. For ten minutes, she doesn't say anything. I guess that is the part where she is processing everything and I don't blame her. If my teenage daughter told me that she has been dating a twenty-three year old man for five going on six months under my roof, I'd probably be seething.
She is disappointed, and rightfully so because I'm older and meant to ''be more responsible' to put it in her words. It is a tearful experience for the both of us, even moreso for me because I'm in both physical and emotional pain.
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