Page 2 of Brock’s Lost Lunchbox

The notification I’d been waiting for came in, and I screenshotted it and put my away message up to go get lunch.

The staff room was going to be empty. It wasn’t afternoon break yet, and official lunchtime was over. It was a shame because I could use some peopling today.

I grabbed my space-themed lunchbox from the fridge and pulled out my tuna sandwich. When I first started working here, people gave me some side-eye over my lunchbox. There was no denying it had been designed for a child. As a rule, I didn’t hide who I was, and that I was little, but work wasn’t the place for that conversation. Instead, I told them I’d snagged it on clearance, which I had. That wasn’t why I bought it, but they didn’t need to know that.

I was halfway through my lunch when my notifications started exploding again. I initially thought it was my group chat. But, no, it was another fire at work.

Lunch was over. I put my sandwich back in the tray and my lunchbox in the fridge and went to deal with the catastrophe my intern had accidentally created. I couldn’t be mad at him, but I wished I had time to finish my food.

It looked like a half-eaten tuna fish sandwich for dinner tonight.

Thanks to the misfiled documents I had to hunt down, it was another late night for me. When I got home, I pulled out the rest of my sandwich and scarfed it down as I put on water for instant noodles. It was hardly the dinner of champions, but it was going to have to do.

“Where did you come from?” I pulled a piece of glitter off the top of my sandwich container. “Did you come to visit me specifically, or was it from someone at work?” I didn’t recognize the color, but it made me smile to see it.

I threw on my footie jams, turned on my favorite cartoon, and ate my instant noodles as I tried to sink into my little space. It didn’t work. It never did.

Next time, I needed to suck it up and just go straight to Chained. I’d be exhausted in the morning, getting there so late at night, but at least I’d have some little time. I really needed it.

Chapter Two

Zeph

“You’ve been coming to munches for several months now.” Will picked up an ube fry and trailed it through the creamy mango aioli. “So, about ready to give it a try?”

“It” referred to a visit to the little room at Chained, a local kink club where Will was a member. They were a sponsor of the munches, although not the only ones, and I had received invitations from several of the clubs and groups.

So, why hadn’t I accepted any of their invitations? What was I waiting for?

Tough question, and one I wished I had a good answer for. I came to the munches as a bridge between learning more about being a daddy and actually stepping into the role. I moved to this town, starting a whole new life, one in which I swore I would be true to myself.

Five years of living with an ex who scoffed at any attempts to take care of him yet managed to demand it at the same time had left me raw and aching. His game playing hit me where it hurt, and dug at my confidence until I couldn’t think clearly beyond surviving every day. I knew for a long time I should leave, but we’d made a commitment to one another, and I took my promises seriously. While we weren’t mated, thank heavens, I promised he would be able to live under my roof as long as he wanted. Rent-free.

I blamed my desire to care for other people while pushing back on any likelihood of being a daddy. I didn’t really understand what that meant and feared it might mean something lacking or needy in me. My ex shut me down the one time I tried to talk about it, in so many words, just asking me what time dinner was.

I never made him leave.

He found someone richer and, likely more gullible, which I considered ended any obligation on my part. But just in case, I changed the locks. And put out resumes.

Which led me to a job offer in a whole new town and a chance to start fresh. My field, a very specific type of auditing, paid well, but there were rarely openings, so I got lucky to find one. Luckier than I even realized, since I had no sooner waved the moving men on their way and started off with my car piled full of things I hadn’t wanted to trust to them, than I got a text.

Can we talk?

I ignored it, and not two minutes later, voice to text spoke from my dashboard. I want to come home.

This time, I replied, I don’t live there anymore. I wish you all the best, but we have nothing left to talk about.

I blocked him.

My new life had no room for someone who manipulated me in ways I hadn’t fully understood until he left and I finally had room to think. Had he not dumped me, I would probably still be stuck in the same place, living the same life, feeling stifled and resentful. But honorable.

There had to be things I could learn from that. Like, what promises should be made and to whom. Sure, Carlo was hot, and before he moved in, he was charming and attentive and even seemed nice, but the moment he tricked me into that promise with a few crocodile tears, it all began to change.

I shrugged off the thoughts that had no place in my mind. I’d spent a year working through it all, and that was 364 days longer than he deserved of my mind. I’d used that time settling into my job and my home and, most recently, exploring the part of me I’d never felt free to set free.

Was I ready to give Chained a try? The little room where I could see more than I’d been able to find on the internet in my research?

“When I go online, the videos and images are nothing like I imagine it would be to be a daddy with a little in his life,” I mused.