"Get the fuck out of my house!" my dad shouted.
"Gladly. But, before I go, I have just one thing to say; you've never been a good father. You've always treated Poppy and her mother like absolute shit."
"You know nothing about being a father, you l...
**This was written in one sitting and has been vaguely edited. Please excuse any errors you find without the chapter. I'll get to editing it sometime later. Also, the gif attached just reminds me of Poppy and Knox in this chapter and I love it. :')
We've almost reached 10K reads, and I can't even tell you how that feels. I'm astounded by the amazing support this story has been shown. I love you guys so much! I hope you enjoy this part!**
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**Edited**
Poppy's POV
I leaned over the counter at my mom's flower shop, focusing my gaze on the clock that hung on the wall. I got out of class early today and offered to take up another shift tonight to not only help my mom but also keep myself busy while Knox was away on yet another business trip. He needed to check up on the Greenville location and make sure things had been going smoothly since it started up. After his consultation was over, he spent the rest of the day sending me photos of different possible renovation locations, wanting my advice on which ones I thought had the most potential.
A smile worked its way to my face as memories of Friday night's events after we got out of the bathtub replayed in my head. We stayed up until the middle of the night talking about our future wedding - even though he had to be up at eight a.m. up the next day for work and me for class. There wasn't any heavy touching or kissing the entire time, he just held me and played with my hair; it was so intimate and amazing that I couldn't help but label it as one of the best nights of my life.
"I remember that look. It's the same one I used to wear when your father and I first got together," my mom teased as she came up behind me from the back room where she'd been arranging new bouquets to showcase on her website.
"Oh yeah? And what look is that?" I shot back playfully.
"You, my dear, are smitten as hell with that boy," she stated in a no-nonsense tone. I chuckled before biting my knuckle lighting and smiling like a maniac. Boy, was she right.
"I'm not smitten, mom," I murmured dreamily, "I'm in love. I know I'll never feel this way about another man; he makes me feel so good and so happy," I replied, my mind still in the clouds.
"Well, no kidding - he treats you like a princess and I've seen his hands and feet; it's a miracle he's even able to walkwithout hunching forward" she snorted. It took a few seconds for me to catch onto what she was implying, but when I finally did my face turned beet red.
"Mom!" I yelled, absolutely mortified.
"What? I'm just saying! I'm a mother, you know, I can tell things about my child even if they don't inform me of them themselves...so, he's good then?" she assumed slyly with a wiggle of her eyebrows. I gasped again, unable to believe the words that were coming from her mouth. I'm going to die from embarrassment right here, right now.
