The Mickey Mouse shirt held memories—too complicated to admit, yet too special to let go.
Pierre never intended on wearing it again.
But after Gwen accidentally poured coffee on his suit while on the way to meet her probation officer, Mickey was all he had left to dress up his dad-bod flabs.
Why he kept it in his car all this time, he had no idea—
“Mr. Bautista,” Ted, the probation officer says, a familiar glint in his eyes. “I see you’ve kept my shirt.”
Who knew being a dad to a teenage daughter could be this messed up?
*Inspired by the prompt third rate romance from The Daily Post.