Forced Romance : The story of Claire and her billionaire boyfriend

ade me nervous. I knew what it meant. My dad had come home late again, drunk.

lock on the kitchen wall reminded me that I was already late for work, but that was the least of my worries. My stomach clen

y thrown it. He was always throwing things when he was mad, and lately, he

part of my morning routine. Cleaning up after him, making sure there were no signs of his drunken tantrum

ry, but I knew I should eat something before heading out the door. The silence was s

he hall. I froze, my hea

en. The same old routine. I glanced at the clock again-st

oodshot, his face pale and unshaven. He looked at me, then at the mess I'd cleaned up, his mouth openin

d in the morning" he mumbled

I went upstairs to get ready for work before I said o

ey'd be spent on. There was no food in the house, but I was sure he'd use it for more beer instead. I thought about the last time I tried to stand up to him, tried to stop his spiral of sel

and broken. I froze in place, my hand on

" he slurred, the words barely mak

en they only surfaced after a dozen beers and too much regret. I stood there for a second, caught between the person I needed him to be and the reality of