Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 34225 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 171(@200wpm)___ 137(@250wpm)___ 114(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 34225 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 171(@200wpm)___ 137(@250wpm)___ 114(@300wpm)
It was weird being alone in his bathroom, showering. I hadn’t been out of his sight for more than a few moments in nearly twenty-four hours. I was surprised he’d let me shower alone.
When I’d come out of the bathroom, wrapped in a towel, he’d been waiting for me with the dress and undergarments I’d worn yesterday when he’d picked me up. “I think we should go to your apartment first. It will give you a chance to change, do some packing, and center yourself in your adult headspace before we go to your parents.”
His idea is a good one. I feel far less out of body now. More my adult self. I can’t believe we managed to pack nearly everything. I didn’t really have much. The apartment itself was furnished. Nothing large belongs to me. So it was just clothes, some of the kitchen items, and personal belongings.
I’ve changed, too. I’m wearing my nicest jeans, a light sweater, and brown ankle boots. My hair is down—the way my mother likes it. I usually prefer a high ponytail or messy bun.
I cringe a bit at the thought of doing something to please her when I’m about to rock her world, but if she at least smiles when we arrive because she likes my hair, it will set a tone.
“Come here, Little one,” Daddy says, holding out his arms.
I rush into them, grateful for the embrace he gives me. I feel so much calmer when he’s holding me. I would feel even better if I were in my nursery, dressed more comfortably, and sucking on my pacifier. But this will have to do for now.
“Ready?” he asks.
“Maybe we could just go straight to the airport, get one-way tickets to another country, and never look back,” I suggest.
He smiles as he threads his fingers in my hair. “That would be heavenly, but I don’t think it would make our problems go away.”
“Darn. Are you sure?”
“Yep.”
I drop my shoulders. “Fine,” I whine dramatically. “Let’s get this over with.” I know my parents will be home. They always are on Sunday afternoons. They probably just finished lunch. My father will be in his office catching up on work. My mother will be planning the week’s menus. They’re very predictable.
Daddy puts some of my things in the back of his car before helping me into the passenger seat. I may not be in a deeply Little headspace right now, but he still buckles me in.
I give him the address for his GPS and then sit on my palms to keep from fidgeting while he drives. It doesn’t keep me from wanting to vomit as soon as we pull into the circle drive of my parents’ showy home.
Gabriel takes my hand in his and squeezes it. “I love you, Zia. Remember that at every moment. No matter what happens, we leave here together, a united front. You’re my Little girl now, and you’ll still be mine when we leave.”
I nod. He’s so strong. I’m grateful. He’ll be strong enough for both of us.
I’m trembling as he helps me out of the car and leads me to the front door. I manage to ring the bell and then open the door. It’s what I always do. I know the code. After all, I lived here most of my life. It seems polite to ring the doorbell before I enter so they have some warning, though.
Gabriel holds my hand as we enter. As usual, his touch calms me. “Mom? Dad?” I head toward the kitchen, where I assume I’ll find my mother.
Sure enough, she’s standing at the island, a pen in her hand, leaning over a notebook. She must be so focused on her grocery list that she didn’t hear me.
She looks up. “Oh, Zia. What a nice surprise.” Her gaze immediately shifts to Gabriel. “And who is this handsome man with you?” She smiles.
My father wanders into the room. “I thought I heard Zia.” His brows lift when he sees I’m not alone.
Gabriel switches my hand from one of his to the other so that he can reach out to shake my father’s hand. “Gabriel Perona, nice to meet you, sir.”
My father smiles politely as he returns the shake.
My mother sets a hand over her heart, but she’s smiling, too. It’s a good start. Her gaze slides down to our connected hands. “I didn’t realize you were dating anyone, Zia.”
I force myself to be brave, standing tall, but squeezing Gabriel’s fingers so tight it has to hurt. “Gabriel and I have known each other for a few months.” Be brave. Be brave.
“Is that so?” My mother looks…shocked?
My father waves a hand in the direction of the entrance to the kitchen. “Let’s all go sit in the family room.” He leads the way.
Gabriel keeps my hand in his, but he also sets his other on my shoulder as we follow. He allows only a few inches between us, and when we enter the living room, he guides me directly to the loveseat, where he sits and helps me down next to him, making sure our thighs are touching. He holds my hand in his lap.