Daddy, Please Make Me Yours

~*JUNE*~

"I still love Maddie. I still love her so fucking much. The only reason I dated you was to get back at her for leaving me."

Andrew's words slam into me, echoing in my skull.

For a second, everything goes still.

My thoughts spin as my vision begins to blur.

My chest tightens so painfully it feels like it's being crushed with every heartbeat.

Air catches in my throat-I can barely breathe.

No. I can't breathe.

I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. Only a choked, wet sound escapes.

Disbelief twists in my stomach, and a hollow sadness coils low in my core, weighing me down like a leaden stone dropped into my gut.

I shake my head, once, then again, like that alone might undo what Andrew just said.

I'd always suspected he still loved Maddie.

It showed in the way her name lingered on his tongue and the way his eyes softened whenever she came up.

But dating me just to get back at her?

That... that's a whole new low.

I never expected him to sink that far.

Does that mean he never loved me?

That all this time, I was nothing more than a pawn in his twisted game?

Someone he just... used?

Andrew stares at me, the angry set of his jaw loosening.

His eyes widen, shock flooding his features as he realizes what he's just admitted.

"Oh my God, June... I didn't mean it. I'm so sorry. I don't know why I said that. I..."

"Save it!" I cut him off, finally finding my voice. "I don't want to hear one more word from you. Not one"

"Please, June..." he says, stepping closer, his hand reaching for me.

"Don't fucking touch me, Andrew!" I yell, shoving him back with all the force I can muster.

He stumbles back, his eyes widening in shock as he stares at me.

I've never acted like this toward him before.

Usually, when I'm with him, I'm calm and gentle-but not this time.

I'm done. Done tolerating his bullshit.

Not wanting to spend another second in the same room with him, I bend down, grab my clothes from the floor, and stride toward the stairs, refusing to look back.

As I move, I feel Andrew's gaze burning into my back, following my every step.

"June... I'm so sorry," he calls after me. "What I said wasn't true."

I keep walking, ignoring him.

My bare feet slap against the wooden stairs as I climb, each step fueled by anger.

I reach my bedroom door, fling it open, and slam it shut behind me.

My back hits the wood as I press against it, trying to anchor myself.

I dig my fingers into my hair, tugging at the roots as if I can wrench my thoughts into place.

A sob rises in my throat, but I force it back down.

I will not cry. I refuse to be a weak bitch.

Pushing off the door, I fling my clothes onto the bed and stalk to the bathroom.

My hands grip the cool porcelain of the sink so tightly my knuckles turn white.

Andrew's words keep echoing in my skull, each repetition tightening my chest, sending tremors through my body as if I could shatter at any moment.

Slowly, I lift my gaze to the mirror.

My reflection stares back-frayed, unrecognizable.

For a moment, I don't see me.

I see Andrew's puppet.

Since I started dating Andrew, he has made me change so much about myself just to fit his preferences.

I force myself to eat more, to gain a little weight, because he said I was too thin, that he didn't like the way my body felt during sex, and that gaining weight would make me 'sexier.'

He makes me dress a certain way-clearly Maddie's style.

He even made me get my nipples and clit pierced, which hurt like hell, claiming Maddie had them and that it would make my body more desirable to him.

But now I know it was all a lie.

None of it was ever about me.

He just wants me to be perfect. Perfect like Maddie.

He can't get over her. So he's trying to carve me into her.

A fresh wave of nausea twists through my stomach as the gut-wrenching thought creeps into my mind.

When he fucks me... does he close his eyes and picture her instead of me?

"God-fucking-damn it," I whisper to my reflection.

I'm such a fool.

A pathetic fool for ever falling in love with Andrew.

A tear slips down my cheek, and I wipe it away quickly, hating that it came at all.

I hate myself for feeling this way.

I hate myself so fucking much.

Taking a shuddering breath, I try to steady myself, however slightly.

Once I feel steadier, I take a quick shower.

Afterwards, I dry off and pull on loose shorts and a singlet.

I reach into the drawer by my bed, grab a cigarette and lighter, and sink onto the edge of the bed.

Flicking the lighter, I light the cigarette and watch the first plume of smoke curl into the air.

I draw a long, deep drag, letting it fill my lungs before exhaling slowly.

For a fleeting moment, the tightness in my chest eases-just a little.

Andrew hates when I smoke, especially in the house.

He hates the smell and never misses a chance to nag about how it's bad for my health.

He'll probably complain about it later-but I don't care.

Fuck him and his health lectures.

Right now, I'd rather have my lungs full of smoke than my head drowning in thoughts.

Smoking isn't something I'm proud of, but I'm glad I do it.

It always helps me relax and eases the tension in my body.

I take another drag, savoring the bitter taste, then exhale, watching the smoke curl into the air.

Downstairs, I hear the front door open and then close softly.

Andrew's gone.

Gone to pick up his precious Maddie.

I take one last, hard drag on the cigarette, then crush it against my bed frame.

Needing something to take my mind off everything, because clearly smoking isn't cutting it anymore, I grab my phone and call my gay bestie, Tyler.

It rings twice before his familiar, cheerful voice lights up the line.

"What's up, babe?"

"Hey, Tyler," I say. "Let's hit the club tonight."

"Sounds perfect, babe," he chuckles. "I'll be there in twenty."

~~~~~~~~~~~

The club music thumps around me, lights flashing over the swaying, shouting crowd, but I barely register it.

My eyes stay glued to my phone as I read the message Andrew sent me just a few minutes ago.

Andrew 😍: 'Hey baby, I'll be home a little later than I planned. I'm so sorry for what I said earlier. I hate myself for it. I was just being a complete asshole. You didn't deserve that. I swear I didn't mean a single word I said. None of it was true. You're the only one I love and want. Please don't ever doubt that. I'll grab your favorite strawberry cake and some treats on my way home. I love you. Always.😘❤️'

I read the message over and over, and each time my emotions twisted further into a tangled jumble.

I felt completely conflicted, unsure whether to be relieved and happy that Andrew had apologized and assured me he didn't mean what he'd said earlier, or to stay angry, knowing there was a real possibility he meant every word and was simply masking it with this apology.

"There are a lot of hot men in here tonight, June," Tyler says from beside me, pulling me from my thoughts.

I turn to see him leaning against the bar, his eyes scanning the crowd as he takes a slow sip from his glass.

"Don't you think so?" he asks, glancing at me.

I shrug lightly. "Not really."

"Hell yeah, there are," he insists, a wide grin spreading across his face. He leans closer, mischief lighting his eyes. "Okay, I've got an idea... why don't we just find a couple of ridiculously hot guys and have some fun? No strings. Just... a little chaos for the night."

I sigh and slip my phone into my pocket. "I'll pass."

"Why?" he drawls, one eyebrow quirking up.

"I'm in a relationship, Tyler," I say, stating the obvious.

He rolls his eyes so hard I half expect them to stick. "Still with that dimwit of a boyfriend, Andrew?"

"Yes, and he's not a dimwit."

"Oh, really? I thought he was," Tyler says, smirking.

I swat his arm.

"Ouch! That actually hurts!" he yelps, wincing, though the grin never leaves his face.

"Serves you right," I tease, leaning back against my stool with a satisfied smile.

"But seriously, June... how are you still with Andrew?" His grin fades, replaced by a hard frown. "You should've dumped him ages ago, especially after he keeps comparing you to his ex."

I let out a quiet breath. "I... I still love him. He's my first love. Even if I tried to break up with him, I don't think I'd ever be able to move on."

Tyler downs the rest of his drink in one gulp, then sets the glass on the counter. "Then get under another man."

"What?" I shout over the pounding music, not sure I heard him right.

"You heard me." He leans in, making sure I catch every word. "If you want to forget a man, the fastest way is to find a new one. Hit reset. Get a new dick to make you forget the old one. Simple as that."

"It's not that simple," I mutter, shaking my head.

"It's pretty simple to me," He shrugs.

"Sure," I say dryly. "Considering you change boyfriends every three months."

"Two months, to be exact," he corrects, smirking. "But that's not the point." His smile fades. "There's no use in being hooked on a guy who doesn't even treat you right."

"I know," I admit, sighing.

"Think about it," he nudges me. "You need to break up with Andrew. It's long overdue." He flashes me a smile. "You deserve better."

I force a small smile. "I'll think about it."

I know I won't.

I can't.

The thought of leaving Andrew twists my stomach... and the idea of being with anyone else-anyone other than him-twists it even more.

That's why I didn't tell Tyler what Andrew had said to me earlier. I knew if I did, he would freak out and try to force me to break up with Andrew.

I lean against the bar, trying to collect my scattered thoughts, while Tyler continues to scan the crowd, winking at the hot men he locks eyes with-until his playful expression suddenly stiffens.

His eyes lock on something behind me.

"Hey... isn't that your boyfriend, Andrew?"

"Andrew? No... you've got to be mistaken. He can't be here. He went to pick up Maddie from the airport."

"No, girl. That is Andrew. And he's..." He squints, then his eyes widen. "...kissing another girl."

"What?" I choke out.