I sometimes harbored the idea that maybe Deena wasn’t genetically mine, but that never stopped me. My daughter. Deena. Cute, fourteen year old blond....Losing her in the divorce was horrible, but even though many fathers can’t or won’t stay in their kids’ lives after a divorce, that wasn’t me. I did weekends and weekdays, each time picking her up at her mom’s, my jealousy grating me as I saw her mom with a new husband.I bought the house, and thought that I had a great opportunity for me and Deena. ”“I never return your texts because you’re an asshole!”“I might be an asshole,” he said, walking towards her, “but I know your little secret.” He pulled out his phone, “what if I just call Jenny right now and tell her? ...Tell her what a little slut her best friend is?”Kara started to panic.Jenny can’t find out. Nobody can know.He was close enough now that Kara could smell the booze permeating from him. She was pretty drunk too and feeling desperate. Desperate to shut him up, desperate to hide. More

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