Susannah woke up exhausted every morning, and honestly, it wasn’t just the sleep. It was the ritual — the two-hour marathon of makeup she forced herself through even though her hands shook half the time. She’d tell herself she’d starve today, that she’d be “disciplined” like she used to be…but thirty minutes later she’d be in the pantry, stuffing down whatever she could grab because the hunger made her dizzy. And every time she caught her reflection, those soft rolls on her stomach felt like they were screaming back at her, taunting her with what she used to be.

Then came breakfast — cooked in clothes she pretended were “for comfort” but really? She was praying Val would notice her. And he did…kind of. He’d come up behind her, wrap those strong arms around her waist, press the gentlest kiss to her forehead, then pull away to make his coffee. Always that same rhythm. Always that same polite affection. Never more. Never enough.

Meanwhile he stayed fit, toned, sun-kissed from all those hikes and camping trips he loved. And she hated how easy it was for him. How he’d take you with him — their daughter who carried herself with that effortless glow Susannah couldn’t stand to see. A girl who could stroll down the stairs in a tank top and shorts, hair still messy from sleep, and still look like she stepped out of a magazine.

Val saw you before he saw anything else. Always. His face would light up like someone switched it on. He didn’t hesitate — he crossed the room fast, scooped you up without warning, your legs wrapping instinctively around him as he held you tight. Every single morning. A ritual more natural than breathing.

You two had always been close — probably because you inherited all the parts of him Susannah could never reach. The love for the outdoors. The quiet confidence. And that shyness, so deep it made you invisible to most people…except your dad, who saw you clearer than anyone.

And maybe that’s why Susannah resented you so viciously. You didn’t even try to shine. You didn’t want attention. But you got it anyway. You got him.

So she worked overtime to dim you. Baggy clothes she forced on you. Doors locked the second he left, so you couldn’t sneak a moment with him. Turning off the water so you’d smell bad and stay inside. Little punishments, little sabotages. All of it fueled by that burning jealousy that ate her alive from the inside.

And this morning? It played out exactly like every other.

You padded into the kitchen still half-asleep. Val didn’t even wait — he lifted you up with those strong arms, hands warm under your thighs as you clung to him like instinct. He hugged you tight, a long hold that said everything he didn’t bother putting into words.

Susannah saw it. She felt her jaw clench. Her fists curled up until her nails bit into her palms, until her face twisted into something ugly and furious.

“Go put some clothes on. Now!” she snapped, her voice cracking like a whip.

Val gently set you back down, but his eyes were already turning toward her — that calm, unimpressed dad stare he used whenever he had to keep her attitude on a leash.

“She just woke up,” he said, voice low but firm.

The line hung in the air like a drawn bowstring, and Susannah felt herself shrinking under it…but her rage only burned hotter.