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“I can sense an ‘or’ hiding in there somewhere.”

“Or, let me show you the other option.”

He offers me his hand and I just stare at it. “Before we go any further I just want to say I’m sorry about yesterday. I’m pretty sure I overreacted.”

“I’m sorry too, for not understanding what you need. For not living up to my responsibility as a Daddy.”

Sandy’s ears perk up and Carter quickly asks her to see what’s going on in the kitchen.

“What happened yesterday, little one?” he asks, his eyes filled with regret.

“That word, scab, it’s a product of my past and I thought you knew exactly why.”

He shakes his head and then brings his hand up behind it, rubbing his neck. “I’m sorry. I had no clue.” He pauses. “I do know about your past, but I didn’t get a chance to explain what scab meant.”

My eyes narrow. “You know about me being nicknamed scab by the other kids in high school?”

His head pulls back and then he shakes it from side to side. “I have no knowledge of that, I just know about your hardships growing up without parents, the same hardships I faced.”

I’m beyond frustrated and am starting to feel like this is all very cryptic. “Can you just tell me what this scab thing is all about?”

“It stands for Southern Californians Against Bullying. As an orphan, it’s almost a given you’re going to get some kind of bullying growing up. I did, and I’m willing to bet you did too. I wanted to start a foundation, together, and pledge half of my companies profits to help kids at risk in our communities.” He pauses. “I’ll admit the acronym was kind of a strange choice, but I was thinking we could use it in a way that says, ‘don’t be a scab and cross lines becoming a bully.’”

I reach up a hand and wipe the tears from my eyes. “For a business genius that sounds like some of the most confusing marketing I’ve ever heard.”

“The name can change, especially now that I know that it hits a sore spot with you. That was the last thing I wanted.”

“I know, but what do you want then?”

“You, beautiful. I want you.”

Reaching in his pocket he pulls out a sparkling, what appears to be diamond hair clip. “What’s that?”

“A gift, for my little girl.”

I bust out laughing.

“What’s so funny. You don’t like it? At least try it on first.”

I remove the hat from my head, but my hair doesn’t flow down well past my shoulders as usual.

“Your…” his mouth falls open.

“It will grow back. Plus it was for a good cause.”

He says nothing, just staring at me and my now very short hair, not even reaching my shoulders.

“A girl I used to live with was pulling her hair out from all the stress and what she didn’t pull out the anxiety she had from feeling alone in the world was taking from her. She’s only seven. I…cut my hair to donate to her. I always saw a bit of myself in her and I want her to have hair in school, not to be teased by other kids during a very challenging time in her life, like I was.” I pause. “But her head is small so the rest I was able to sell for a bit of money.” I reach in my pocket and pull out a couple of tubes of super glue. “For that penis, I broke off your statue.”

Now it’s Carter’s turn to lose it. “You’ve got to be kidding me. I traded the sculpture for the hair clips and you traded your hair for the super glue. Perfect, angel. We’re perfect for each other.”

“I don’t look ugly with super short hair?”

“You look perfect and I hope this,” he says, holding his arms out wide. “Looks like home to you, because I’m never letting you leave again.”

“Good, because I don’t want to. I want to be here in your arms, always, Daddy. Holding your hand as you guide me through this crazy little thing called life.”

The tears start flowing even harder now.

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