"You got a flat tire in a snowstorm." His mouth curves. "Best bad luck ever."
We eat at his dining table, talking about work, the park, his expansion plans. He asks about my day, really listens when I tell him about Emma and her puppy dreams, about Monica's visit, about the families at the ornament station.
"You're good at it," he says. "Making people feel seen."
"You are too. I watched you with the employee at the barn today. You listened intently and didn’t dismiss him. It’s validating when you actively listen to people."
"That's different."
"No it's not. You care about people."
He's quiet for a moment. "My grandfather used to say that caring is the hardest job there is. Because you can't do it halfway. You either care or you don’t.”
"He sounds wise."
"He was." Justin stands, starts clearing plates. "He would have liked you."
"Really?"
"Really. You remind me of him, actually. The way you see magic in everything."
I help him clean up, our movements synchronized like we've been doing this for years instead of days. When the kitchen is spotless, he takes my hand, leads me to the couch. He pulls me onto his lap so I am straddling him, and I can feel the hard ridge of his arousal beneath me. Normally, that would make me squirm with anticipation, but the way his hands settle on my hips, sends a different kind of shiver through me.
“We need to talk,” he says, his voice low and serious.
My stomach drops.Talknever means anything good. “Okay.”
“Our rules are pretty clear cut, right?”
I swallow, my fingers twisting in the fabric of his shirt. “Yes…”
“Yes,Daddy,” he corrects, his tone leaving no room for argument.
“Yes, Daddy,” I parrot, my voice small.
“Did you take care of yourself today?”
I shift uncomfortably. “What do you mean?”
His grip tightens just enough to make me still. “Before our meeting today, I asked you if you’d had breakfast. What did you tell me?”
“I was running late,” I mumble, my cheeks heating.
“And that you’d grab a bite soon. Did you?”
“No, but?—"
“I’m not asking for excuses, sweetheart.” His voice is stern, but not unkind. “Did you eat lunch today?”
I bite my lip. “Well, Monica brought sandwiches, but after a bite I was distracted by a glitter explosion. I intended to finish it at break, but forgot.”
“The answer you are looking for is, ‘No, Daddy, I did not eat lunch.’” His thumb traces circles on my hip, but his expression doesn’t soften. “And you mentioned how you stopped for gasafter work because your gas light came on. What if you hadn’t had enough gas to get down the mountain to the nearest station? You could have been stranded in the cold for God knows how long until someone got to you.”
I squirm, the worry in his tone causing guilt to gnaw at me. “I… It didn’t come on until I was halfway to work this morning. I knew I had enough to make it to work and back down to the station. I’d just procrastinated.”
“Would you say not eating all day, and I haven’t even touched on the fact that you forgot your water bottle which makes me think you likely also didn’t hydrate, and letting the car get to empty is taking care of yourself?”
I shake my head, my throat tight. “I guess not.”
