But fantasy and reality were different things.
"Walker, I..." My voice trembled. "This is a lot to process."
"I know," he said gently. "Take your time."
I twisted my fingers together in my lap, trying to organize my chaotic thoughts. "What if you change your mind? What if you realize I'm too much trouble?"
His brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"
"My diabetes isn't going away," I said, the words rushing out. "It's forever. The needles, the testing, the medical bills—it never stops. What if you get tired of dealing with it? What if you decide it's too much work?"
"Lottie—"
"My uncle did," I continued, unable to stop now that I'd started. "He might have thought he could handle it at first, but then he got tired of the hassle. The school nurse calling. The doctors’ appointments. The cost of everything." Tears burned in my eyes. "What if you decide the same thing?"
Walker's expression softened, but I saw something else there too—a flash of hurt that I'd compared him to my uncle.
"I'm not him," he said quietly. "And I don't make offers I'm not prepared to follow through on."
"But you barely know me." I hugged myself tightly. "What if I'm not what you want? What if I can't be a good Little girl? I don't even know what that means, not really."
Walker reached for my hand, his large palm engulfing mine. "Being a Little girl isn't about being perfect, Lottie. It's about allowing yourself to be cared for. To be vulnerable with someone you trust."
"But what if I become completely dependent on you?" The fear that had been building inside me spilled out. "What if I forget how to take care of myself? And then if you leave—" My voice broke.
"Is that what you're afraid of?" Walker asked softly. "Becoming dependent and then being abandoned?"
I nodded, unable to speak past the lump in my throat.
"I understand that fear," he said. "But a Daddy-Little relationship isn't about creating dependency. It's about creating safety." His thumb brushed over my knuckles. "I wouldn't take away your independence, Lottie. I'd give you a foundation to build on."
It sounded so good, so perfect. But I'd learned early that perfect things didn't happen to me.
"I'm scared," I admitted in a small voice.
"Of course you are." Walker's voice was gentle but firm. "You've been hurt by people who should have protected you. You've had to be self-sufficient for so long that accepting help feels dangerous."
I nodded, tears blurring my vision. He understood in a way no one ever had before.
"What if we take it slow?" Walker suggested, his voice gentle. "No need to decide everything right now. You could stay here while you heal and get your diabetes under control. We could get to know each other better. And if you decide this is something you want to explore, we can talk about what being my Little girl would look like."
I bit my lip, considering his words. Taking it slowly sounded reasonable, less overwhelming than making a life-changing decision in this moment.
"What about work?" I asked. "I still need income, Walker. I can't just...exist without contributing."
"The job at Kingdom is real," he assured me. "Whether you decide to be my Little girl or not. And Fiona's aunty definitely needs help, whatever you decide."
That was tempting. The idea of working somewhere else was appealing. And if Marco really had pictures...
"I'd need to give notice at Sunny's," I said, my practical side asserting itself.
Walker's expression tightened slightly. "I'd prefer if you didn't go back there at all. We could call, or I could go with you if you want to do it in person, but you do have a doctor’s note."
The protective edge in his voice made something warm unfurl in my chest. No one had ever been concerned for my safety like this before.
"Let me think about all this," I said finally. "But...I would like to stay here for now, if that's still okay. I don't think the apartment's safe."
Walker's smile transformed his usually serious face, crinkling the corners of his eyes. "More than okay. And we can still go get your things from your apartment today."
