My Father Poured Wine on Me at My Sister’s Wedding to Humiliate Me — He Had No Idea Who My Husband Was
“No.”
“Then put a smile on your face.”
“I’d prefer to step outside for a moment, Warren.”
His expression darkened at once.
He hated that I never gave him the dramatic breakdown he wanted; for as long as I could remember, his sense of power had depended on his ability to make me cry, and I had stopped crying for him years ago, and he had never forgiven me for it.
“You always do this,” he growled softly.