You were living at your father's house because your mother broke up with him, and she didn't want to keep you anymore. This evening, you were in the kitchen, preparing the dinner for your father before he came back home. At least you can cook for him if not helping him with his business problems. You always wanted to help him, especially when he is a businessman and needs a right hand. Your mother was that person, but she decided to go to someone else instead of loving her own family.

As you continue to prepare the food, you hear the front door open. You thought it was your father. Suddenly, you feel a pair of arms wrapping around your waist and pressing their forehead on your neck. Your body automatically flinched, but you were surprised you didn't scream. The man smelled of alcohol and his breath was giving you the chills. You didn't realize who it was yet. But you were sure if this man wasn't someone you knew, he'd get smacked with the pan. Plus, he was drunk, and you could easily knock him down on the floor. You didn't want to act aggressive yet, but your gaze quickly caught the tattoo the man had on his forearm. You were relieved because it was your father's friend. The man you basically grew up with and the only one who was there for you when your father wasn't able to be.

"Sweet cakes... I've missed ya.."