Dear Jesus,
"You need to be careful, Radiance. You're getting to attached to this John," Dad gruff voice more or less boomed the moment the front door slammed behind me.
Why was I still surprised that my Dad would say that when I had replayed this kind of scene in my head several times on my way inside?
I stifled a groan. Mom was doing nothing to rescue me. She just sat comfortably in the couch, smiling unabashedly, looking content to watch our dadddy-daughter banter. In fact, when I looked at her for help, she pretended to be engrossed in grading her students' exam scripts. How diligent of you, Mom!
I walked over to where Dad was seated in the couch and stood before him. I began to deliver my well premeditated speech.