“What?” Confused, I frown down at the mass of curls resting against my breast. “You are no such thing, Alexis.”
“Yes, I am!” She sits up, her tear-soaked gaze meeting mine. “You said they’re from that fancy designer, Solene, and there’sno wayany designer makes clothes for someone like me.”
Finally, the pieces tumble into place and the pressure in my chest eases. “My sweet girl. They will fit you because they were designedforyou. We might need to make some adjustments, but for the most part, everything in your closet was made with you, and only you, in mind.”
“But… how?” Confusion has her brows drawing together as a frown tugs at her lips. “You don’t know my measurements.”
“Oh, but I do.” I allow a grin to stretch across my face. “You remember how when you bought that pretty polka-dot dress, you had to put your measurements into the website so they could be sure to send you the right size?”
“Yes—wait. How did you know that?”
“Because I designed the site. Well, I paid someone to design it for me. And to make sure my website was the one that popped up in all your searches whenever you went looking for clothes. So that when you finally decided to buy something, I’d have everything I needed to make sure I could at least start your wardrobe before you arrived on the island.”
“You… you did all that? For me?”
There’s a hint of wonder in her tone, and my heart breaks at the thought that my babygirl has never been loved the way she truly deserves. “My sweet little imp. I would doanythingfor you.”
“Then…” I watch the wheels turn in her mind as a dimple flashes in her cheek and excitement sparks in her eyes. “Can I try the cherry dress, please? I think it’s my favorite.”
“Of course, baby. You can try on whatever you like. But first we need to get you into a fresh diaper.”
Her nose wrinkles slightly at this information, but she doesn’t argue as I lead her over to the changing table and wrapher in a fresh diaper. Once she’s properly swaddled, I help her down from the table and lead her back into the closet, where we change out her Big girl dress for the cherry dress. The cut is similar, a sort of retro style that flares out around her legs, but the cherry dress is much, much shorter. A fact that does not go unnoticed by my Little girl as she studies her reflection in the mirror.
“Maybe we should try a different dress,” she says as she tugs at the ruffled hem. “I don’t want everyone to see my legs.”
“Why not?” Bending down, I drill my fingers into her sides, delighted when she giggles and shrieks in protest. “I think your legs are absolutely adorable.”
“Nuh-huh. See all these yucky rolls?” She points to one leg, her face scrunching up in disgust.
“All I see is a beautiful Little girl in a beautiful dress. And that’s all anyone else will see.” Wrapping my arms around her, I meet her dubious gaze in the mirror. “Besides, all your other dresses are just as short. So you might as well get used to showing off those cute little legs of yours.”
Another scrunch of her nose, and for a moment I’m certain she’s preparing to argue with me. But then she pauses, her eyes locked with mine. “You really think my legs are cute?”
“The absolute cutest, my little imp.”
“Okay.” Her tone is hesitant, as is the slow nod she gives. “I believe you.”
I’m not sure she does, but the fact that she’s willing to pretend, willing to set aside her own insecurities for me fills my chest with so much happiness it’s a wonder it doesn’t simply burst out of me in a glittering rainbow. “Thank you for trusting me, baby. Now for the really important question.”
“What’s that, Mommy?”
Releasing her, I stride over to a tall, slender cabinet and pull open a drawer full of ribbons. “One ponytail? Or two?”
Alexis
With my hair tied up in a high ponytail complete with a bright-red ribbon that clashes horribly with my curls but matches my dress perfectly, Catharina takes my hand and leads me downstairs.
I need to be more careful to think of her as Catharina, at least in my head. Now that all the big emotions from my punishment—and the pleasure that followed—have faded, I can see I’ve been getting a little too comfortable in this “Little girl” role she’s put me in. Even in my thoughts, she’s become Mommy, and if I have any hope of escaping this island, I need to keep as much distance between myself and Catharina as possible.
Which is, admittedly, rather difficult when she’s spoiling me with all the things I thought I’d never have. Beautiful clothes, this big, fancy house, delicious food. There is a part of me, a part I hate for how weak it is, that’s tempted to just say fuck it and give into being her Little girl. That part of me keeps whispering, taunting me, asking does it reallymatterhow we got here if here is the kind of place we’ve always wanted to be?
I’m doing my best to ignore that stupid voice when the doorbell rings and Catharina pauses just at the bottom of the stairs to shake her head, a wide grin stretching across her face. “That will be your Uncle Max and his Little one, Victoria. She’s an impatient little thing and your Uncle Max indulges her far more than he should.”
Despite the stern words, I can’t help but notice how excited she seems to see them, and jealousy twists in my stomach. Doesshe like Victoria better than me? Does she wish Victoria was her Little girl instead?
Hand in hand, she guides me across the foyer to the front door. When she opens it, there is a man and a woman on the other side, and that ugly twisting feeling in my stomach worsens.
Victoria isbeautiful.Not like, old Hollywood glamorous, but the kind of natural beauty that would have her being cast as the girl next door everyone is head-over-heels in love with but she’s totally oblivious because she doesn’t have time for love. Her dark hair is curled into perfect ringlets that my natural curls could never hope to achieve, and the style only serves to highlight that stunning heart-shaped face.
