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Not his father

As I entered the living room, a wave of panic washed over me when I witnessed Elijah towering over Marco, his voice booming with fury.

My poor son sat on the couch, trembling with fear and uncertainty, his innocent eyes reflecting a mix of terror and bewilderment.

My blood boiled as I approached them, ready to defend my son.

"What is happening here?" I demanded, trying to maintain a calm tone despite the rage bubbling inside me. Elijah turned to me, his expression softening as he noticed the anger in my eyes.

"I apologize, Sweetheart," he said, his voice lowering.

"I just got frustrated with Marco. He left his toys scattered all over the kitchen, and I nearly tripped on them."

His explanation was meant to justify his actions, but it only fueled my anger.

"So, just because he left some toys on the floor, you think it's acceptable to yell at him like that?" I shot back, my voice escalating.

Looking into Marco's tear-filled eyes, I realized that this wasn't the first time Elijah had lost
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Comments (1)
goodnovel comment avatar
Linda Parizeau
So ridiculous. Her young son is more mature than her. She always jumps to conclusion without even thinking. I think Elijah is not that good after all.
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