NovelBarI've been remaining chaste for you.”
Melissa thought he had some nerve. - Marcus stubbed out the cigarette and headed off to find his son.
Watching him go, Melissa felt a twinge of confusion.
Marcus seemed possessive, yet his pace was deliberate. He didn't even insist sharing her bed when she moved in. It was like he was slowly melting her, and she really felt vulnerable.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtMelissa felt trapped, like there was no way out.
The evening sky was growing dim, cloaked in the velvet hues of impending twilight.
Matthew ran around the spacious backyard, his laughter filling the air.
The puppy, thrilled with the new space, zipped around after him, both of them completely engrossed in the game.
Marcus watched them from a distance, a quiet figure observing the boundless energy of the boy and his dog.
They continued their play until the yard had been thoroughly explored and the shadows grew long. Finally, Matthew, with the puppy in his arms, trotted over to Marcus.
“Dad, Minnie's got all dirty. Can you help me clean her up?”
Carefully, Marcus took the slightly muddy puppy from Matthew's arms, ready to tackle the mess.
The puppy was a bundle of softness, its fur Like silk-except for its belly, which was tender and hairless. Just as Marcus started cleaning the playful pup, Matthew hurried back with a towel, his eyes full of anticipation.
Once Minnie was clean, Marcus, with a strong but gentle hand, scooped up Matthew and headed toward the villa.
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏmMatthew, a mix of sheepish pride and affection, rested his head on his dad's shoulder, his fingers unable to resist reaching out to pet Minnie once more.
Downstairs, Melissa had slipped into more comfortable clothes and joined them, just as Matthew began to protest-why couldn't Minnie dine with them? Marcus, ever the patient explainer, tried to lay out the facts gently.
Minnie sat on a chair, wearing an expression of pure innocence, as Matthew made his heartfelt plea.
“But Minnie’s part of the family. Why can't she have dinner with us?” Marcus, lifting an eyebrow, replied, “Minnie’s a dog, buddy. Our food isn't good for her. She only eats dog food. And you know she can't sit at the table like we do, or use a fork and knife, right?” Matthew's eyes, round and earnest, didn't waver. “But you could feed Minnie like you feed me when | was little, couldn't you, Daddy?” At that, Marcus found himself at a rare loss for words.
In the end, with a droop in his little shoulders, Matthew placed Minnie back on the sofa before shuffling back to the dining table.
Marcus watched the scene unfold and, feeling a twinge of sympathy,
offered a compromise. “How about this? After we eat, I'll make a special little table for Minnie. That way, she can have her meals next to us.
Sound good?” Matthew's face transformed with hope. “Really?”
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