Felicia' P.O.V
"Felicia," he starts sounded exhausted and drained. "Your father is no shape or form ready to hear about this. And if I'm being completely transparent with you, I don't think he ever will be." He admits, his eyes finally meeting mine.
I take a moment to digest his words. My mind circling with his words and his previous ones. I shake my head, opening my mouth for words to come out, it takes a moment to deliver them.
"I thought you said he just needed time." I reply, my voice broadcasting my vulnerability and fear. "That he just needed to be 'buttered up'."
Dad nods as I speak but the look of distress does not leave his eyes.
"I know, I know. I believed that was the case, but now ..." He lets out a heavy breath as he rubs his temple.
"What changed?" I ask desperate for a further form of explaination that I knew he harboured deep inside. "What happened?"
