"Chloe, you have a visitor."
"I don't know. Some girl."
"Okay. Coming. Just a minute."
Chloe grabbed the pile of flyers from the printer and stacked them on the shelf. 'Nearly a hundred. Cool. Now let's go see who Stepdouche is trying to set me up with now.
I'm sick of him trying to pick my friends for me - the ones
thinks are suitable. I swear he thinks I'm one of his recruits. Asshole.'
She swaggered down the stairs, but at the sight of her visitor she stopped dead. It wasn't one of David's 'They'll be good for you.' arrangements.
"What in the fuck do
"Chloe, watch your mouth."
"Or what? You're not my father. Mind your own goddamn business."
"Chloe, I'm just trying to help you, that's all. Please. I don't want to fight."
"I never asked for your help, now leave me the hell alone."
David Madsen retreated to the garage, shaking his head. He knew he was hard on Chloe, but he really wanted to help her. He did care deeply for her, but she would never accept that, he knew.
He wasn't William. Joyce had managed to move on, but Chloe was still firmly stuck in the past, always wishing for people she couldn't have.
As long as she was unable to recover what had been torn from her, she would remain angry. At him. At Joyce. At the world.
He knew he had his own issues (which weren't helping, nosir) but he was working on them. Joyce and Chloe were his world. He would never give in.
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