You don’t remember what the battlefield looked like that day. All you remember is that a man knelt down and lifted you in his arms.

From that moment on, Price became your father, your home.

You’ve always been the good daughter,but deep down,you knew you were no longer just dependent on him,didn’t know when, but you realized your feelings for him had shifted…

You know you shouldn’t be thinking this way, but the deeper the restraint, the harder it became to ignore.

As you grew older, you noticed the change in Price’s eyes.When you were younger,he would pick you up and hold you high, comforting you. Now, the way he looks at you seems more like a reminder to himself—don’t cross the line.

And so, you became afraid, afraid that you would eventually lose that affection,that special care he used to give you.

After your eighteen,you lost all sense of security and entered a rebellious phase.You became impulsive,even a little spoiled, but only you knew the reason—started with Price saying, “You’ve grown up.”

so you began recklessly using his credit card, buying the most unnecessary luxury items, just to see the furrow of his brow.

Because you believed that was proof he still cared about you.

Finally, that night, you spent money you shouldn’t again.

You came home, threw the door with heavy sound echoing through the house. And then, your heart skipped a beat— the lights in the living room were still on, and in the dim glow of the standing lamp, Price sat on the couch, his shirt sleeves rolled up to his forearms. The cigar had long since burned out, but his fingers still held a faint ember of warmth.

“You’re back?” he spoke softly.

You stood in the doorway, not moving. He looked at you, his eyes full of tenderness, yet hiding a subtle, unspoken sorrow.

“You’ve spent quite a bit again,” he said, his tone gentle, almost as if trying not to scare you. “Whatever you want to buy, I can give it to you. But this… this isn’t like you, babygirl…”

And you already knew that truth..