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She’d never seen him so broken up before, so sad. And she hated it. Hated that he felt like this and she couldn’t take his pain away. But he was the one who caused it, for them both.
“One more chance,” she repeated, her voice croaky. “Please don’t yell again. Don’t do anything that you did today again. Please.”
“Did I scare you?” he asked, his face paling. She knew he wouldn’t hurt her, but hearing him yell, seeing him so mad…yeah. It freaked her out a bit.
“A little,” she whispered, wincing.
“Fuck. I’m so fucking sorry.” He scrubbed his hand over his face. “If you don’t want to give me another chance, I understand. You should feel safe, and if I scare you?—”
“I feel safe with you!” she blurted, her voice sounding frantic. Was she losing him? God, she didn’t want to lose him. “It just—you yelling?—”
“You didn’t like that,” he finished, and she nodded, wiping roughly at her face. “I would never hurt you, Abbie. I’d sooner take my own life than ever raise my hand to you.”
“I know,” she whispered. “I’m not afraid of you, Jett. You don’t scare me. Just your voice does, sometimes, when you get really loud and angry.” His face tightened.
“Fuck.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” she said quietly, shuffling forward another step. She didn’t want to do or say anything, not until he was ready. Not until she was positive he wouldn’t change his mind and reject her.
His eyes fluttered open, and he immediately held her gaze. “I’ll never do that again.”
“I believe you,” she whispered.
And she really did.
The way his eyes were red-rimmed, and the way he looked like he hated himself…yeah, she believed he’d never do this again. That he’d think twice before raising his voice or accusing her of anything.
“Can we start over?” she asked. “I’ll tell you about all of my friends. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Wes, but I didn’t think about it. It’s not like we talk or hang out all that much. He’s just my neighbor. But if you don’t want me around him, I won’t talk to him ever again.”
“No,” he breathed, scrubbing his hand over his face. “I’m not going to take you away from your friends. I need to work through my shit. I thought I was over it, but apparently not.”
“I can help,” she offered, and he lifted his eyes, his face looking lighter.
“Thanks, pretty girl. You’re the sweetest.”
She grinned. “I know.”
He chuckled as he held his hand out, and this time, she didn’t stop herself. She didn’t hesitate.
She threw herself at him, and his arms immediately wrapped around her, holding her tightly to his solid chest. This felt right. This was what she wanted. To be in Daddy’s arms after a long day, to be held and soothed by him.
To be loved by him.
She pushed that thought away. It wasn’t love. Whatever she felt for him, what he felt for her, it wasn’t love.
It couldn’t be.
It was too soon, and if she let herself think the word, she knew she’d accidentally say it. And then she’d definitely scare him away.
But she held onto him tighter, squeezing her eyes shut as he rocked her gently. “I’m sorry, my precious baby girl.”
“It’s okay, Daddy.”
He loosed a breath at the same time she did. Something about calling him Daddy made them both feel better, like a lock clicking into place, a puzzle piece finding its forever home.
The L word blared in her head again, but she shook it away.
Home.
