Honey's Poisoned Toy

I don’t know if her mom is actively helping Honey cuck me or if she’s just that biased, that oblivious, that deep in denial because “family” means keeping Honey happy no matter what the cost. Either way, the cage feels tighter every single day, the steel digging in like a constant accusation. My house feels smaller and more invaded, the walls echoing with memories I can’t escape. My life feels like it belongs to someone else entirely now piece by piece, she’s taken it all.

And the worst part? I’m still here. Still waiting for the next text, the next video, the next time she strips naked in my kitchen and tells me to get on my knees like the obedient, broken man I’ve become.

Because even though it’s breaking me apart in ways I never imagined, I can’t walk away.

I’m hers.

And everyone, my son’s grandmother included, seems perfectly fine with it, the silence and the enabling smiles only making the chains feel heavier, sweeter, and more impossible to break.

[To Be Continued]