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Chapter Eleven
Oh, god. She hadn’t done this since she was ridiculously sick with the flu in middle school and now she’d gone and done it at her crush’s house. Her Daddy’s house? Had she dreamed that? It was hard to tell what was real and what was a dream, but she was definitely sore and felt sick when she sat up.
The bed was wet. The bed was wet because she’d wet it, and of course she hadn’t had the presence of mind to keep quiet when she realized it. She was upset and exhausted and confused and her wail had just escaped.
She’d gotten out of bed, and though her hands were shaking and her knees were weak, maybe Mr. Fox hadn’t heard her and she could take care of this before he noticed? Except how? She didn’t have any clothes and—
The door swung open and Mr. Fox stood there in the gloomy light, looking like a superhero with his broad shoulders framed by the doorway.
“Twyla, what are you doing out of bed? Are you okay? You shouldn’t be up. Look at you, you look like you’re about to pass out.”
She kind of felt like that too, but humiliation was a powerful driver and she didn’t want him to know what she’d done. He’d make her leave for sure.
Except she couldn’t move fast, not without falling anyway, and when he strode toward her, his brow creased with concern, all she could do was stand there with handfuls of covers in her hands.
“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice cracking on a sob. “I’m so sorry. I made a mess and I’ll clean it up. Just… Please don’t send me away. I’ll wash everything and you don’t have to do anything, and I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to, it just—I’m sorry.”
Mr. Fox cocked his head and after a second, his expression lit with understanding. Twyla wanted to die, wanted to sink into the floor and into the dirt and get eaten by worms. It was so embarrassing and now she was wet and she smelled and everything was ruined.
She’d been keeping her crying at bay for the most part, but now that there was no escaping the kindest most handsome man she’d ever met knowing that she’d wet the bed like a small child, she couldn’t hold them in anymore and burst into tears.
It wasn’t a second later that Mr. Fox was taking the sheets from her hands, but instead of telling her she was disgusting and to get out of his perfect house, he wrapped her in his arms.
“Oh, sweetheart. I’m sorry. I should’ve known this might happen. Those painkillers are pretty strong and they can really knock a person out. Especially little girls. I’m sorry I didn’t think of it before.”
Hewas sorry? That didn’t make any sense.She’dmade the mess,shewas the one who’d wrecked everything. Why was he apologizing? If this had happened at her house there was no doubt in her mind that Wade would at best be cuffing her upside the head and yelling at her for being a dumb cunt. At worst—she didn’t want to think about it.
“Don’t,” she said, pushing at him, and was a little sad when he actually let go.
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t touch me. I’m gross and wet and I don’t want you to get all…”
She didn’t want to rub off any of her nastiness onto him. He was clean and put together and perfect. She’d only been here for a couple of hours and already she was ruining everything. Because that’s what she did. Made everything a mess, wrecked it all.
“Is that the only reason you don’t want me touching you? Because you think I’ll be upset by a little pee?”
Ugh. Twyla cringed hard hearing it out loud before she buried her face in her hands so she didn’t have to look at him while she cried harder. She could at least answer his question though, and squeaked out a “yes” between her fingers.
Then he was holding her again, rubbing her back and hushing her and she wanted to push him away again but it was useless. She wasn’t strong enough and truthfully, she wanted to be hugged. If this was the last hug she ever got from him then it would be and she’d treasure the feeling when she was trying to go to sleep at night back at her house while her mom and Wade were fighting and the TV was turned up way too loud.
After her crying had turned to sniffles, Mr. Fox pulled her hands away from her face and tipped her head up with a couple of knuckles under her chin.
His blue eyes were clear and she didn’t see any anger or disgust there but she’d been wrong about men before. So, so wrong.
“I need you to listen to me very carefully, sweetheart. I’m not grossed out. I’m not disappointed. I’m not angry. You’ve been through a lot today and it’s not surprising that your body would shut down as much as possible so it could spend all its energy on healing. Even if it was just a regular night and you hadn’t been extra stressed or injured, I’m your daddy now. It’s my job to take care of you. To me, that means keeping you fed, comfortable, and happy. That means anything you need, I’ll do my best to give to you. And this I can definitely help with. There’s something upstairs I want to show you.”
Before she could argue, he scooped her up and held her to him. The crying had taken a toll and any boost she’d gotten from the adrenaline that had flooded her system had worn off. She felt like she could fall asleep again right here, right now.
But it didn’t take him long to carry her upstairs, and through his bedroom, into the bathroom where there was a door she hadn’t noticed before. Not that she had noticed a lot given that she’d barely opened her eyes while he gave her a bath. He opened the door without putting her down and inside she saw…
“What the hell?”
“Language, sweetheart,” he chided gently, but she couldn’t believe her eyes. It looked like one of those nurseries that were in glossy catalogues that had nothing she’d ever be able to afford. Glossy white furniture and pretty purple floral linens and perfectly painted lavender walls with shelves of toys and a whole bin of stuffies. Except the furniture was too big so it looked strange. Unless…
It would all be too big for actual babies, but Mr. Fox had given her a bottle. And kept calling her little girl. Were these things for her? Not likeherher because she’d had no reason until today to think he had anything other than a passing interest in her and she still wasn’t sure that this would last very long but…
“Come on, let’s get you changed.”
