Page 55 of British Daddy to Go

Tears spill from my eyes as I jog to the subway station. A crying girl in New York is more common than a naked girl in New York, but I still attract a lot of attention. But no one asks me if I’m okay, not even the tourists.

It takes me six tries to get my MetroCard to read properly because my eyes are so blurry that I can’t see where to slide it. I finally get through the gate just in time to miss my train. Another one comes in seven minutes, but that’s seven more minutes for my parents to concoct an evil plot to ruin the small amount of life I have.

When my train finally arrives, I’m thankful to get a seat. No one sits near me. They don’t want to catch whatever has the crying girl so upset.

I sob into my hands for the few stops it takes me to get home. I should have been all cried out by the time I reach my station, but I’m not even close. All I can think about is the hurt look on Sean’s face when I’d compared our night of blissful passion to what one might do with a paid companion. That’s not what it had felt like at all!

A few apartments down from mine, I stop to send him a text.I’m sorry, I write.I didn’t mean it.

I turn my phone off again and take the last few steps to my fate.

Steeling myself, I open the door and prepare for the worst.