Olivia stood frozen, her face a mask of absolute shock as Kafka's shameless words hung in the air.
Her son—her own son, had just pointed at her massive, straining breasts and called them out, describing their size and firmness with a brazenness that left her reeling.
No mother expected to hear such blunt, almost crude commentary from her child, and her cheeks burned a deep crimson, her hands instinctively moving to cover her chest as if she could shield herself from the embarrassment.
She opened her mouth, ready to what the hell he was saying to his own mother when she noticed Abigaille's expression shift. Expecting her partner as a parent to reprimand Kafka for his inappropriate remark, Olivia braced herself, hoping Abigaille would steer the conversation back to safer ground.
But to her utter disbelief, Abigaille did no such thing.
