“It’s fine, my flower, I forgive you,” he said with a patronizing tone, and I had to resist the urge to slap him. His arrogance and presumption were insufferable. “But let me make this clear, my flower, I don’t like it.”
I took a deep breath, trying to keep my emotions in check. “First of all, stop calling me ‘my flower.’ It’s ridiculous and demeaning,” I retorted, not willing to accept such an absurd nickname from him.
