𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞

ʙᴏɴᴜꜱ

Smut warning...

My three-year-old daughter Fiorella was sobbing uncontrollably as I sat on the couch, caressing her back in response to her father not being home early, as promised.

She thought he left her, forgot about her even.

Fiorella was, at the very least, devastated. Even though I made an effort to comfort her, all she wanted at the time was her father. After all, she is a daddy's girl.

All I could do was cuddle with her and rub her back while she cried. Eventually, her cries turned into gasps, which soon turned into deep, heavy breathing.

I sighed while looking down at my little girl, whose eyes were puffy and red. Her chubby cheeks were stained with her tears and her lips were morphed into a small frown.

Seeing Fiorella like this caused my stomach to twist at the sight. My heart hurt and I put what I felt to the side, running my fingers through her short curls.

I got up from the couch with Fiorella in my hands. I carefully and slowly walked her up the steps towards her room. I gently laid her down and tucked her in, kissing her lovingly on the forehead.

I walk out her room and made my way back downstairs to the same couch Fiorella and I spent hours on, waiting for that husband of mine. I sat down on the cushion and crossed my legs and arms, looking forward for Enrico to come home.

About thirty minutes passed, and I was seriously about to go to bed. It was about two in the morning, way past my sleeping schedule.

With a sigh, I got up and began folding the blankets I used. As I was getting ready to climb those stairs, the front door opened.

Now I knew it was Enrico because no one could get past the security and alarms unless they were family. The entrance door was close to the living room, so I turned around and headed that way.

A stumbling Enrico walked through the doors, throwing down his keys and suit jacket. He began walking towards the living room, literally forgetting to close the door.

I turned on the light and watched as Enrico hissed at the brightness. I rolled my eyes and walked to the door, closing it. I turned around to face Enrico and immediately got hit with the whiff of alcohol.

He's drunk.

"You're not seriously drunk," I told him with a slight frown on my face. "Right?"

He stumbled a bit, mumbling something under his breath. It was when he saw my facial expression, which changed to irritated, that he snapped out of his trance.

Rico gulped, trying to regain his balance. "Yes, baby, just a bit."

My stomach flattered at the pet name before I quickly shook it off. There's no way he could make up for the mood he put Fiorella and I in tonight. He couldn't possibly make up for how he made Fiorella and I feel tonight.

"Don't 'baby' me, Enrico." I spat out, making sure to keep my voice low. "Fiorella stayed up, waiting for you to come home. She cried herself to sleep because she missed you."

"Fuck." He ran his hand down his face. "I'm so sorry, preziosa."

I shook my head. "Sorry will not cut it, Enrico. You promised her you would be home earlier than usual."

"I know—" I cut him off, not wanting to hear his apologies or excuses.

"Do not make promises you cannot keep." I told him before grabbing his keys and jacket he threw on the ground.