I take a breath. "What if I mess this up? What if I do something that makes you realize I'm not—and then I lose you? What if I get more attached and?— "
"Don't." His voice is firm. "Don't finish that sentence. You're not going to mess this up. And even if you stumble, we work through it. That's what we do."
"Promise?"
"Promise." He kisses my forehead. "Now. Since you didn't finish breakfast, and you didn’t eat lunch, you're going to eat now. I'm going to stand here and watch you do it."
"Justin—"
"Not negotiable." He gestures to a salad on his desk. "Start eating."
I do, and he's true to his word, he stands there, arms crossed, watching me take every bite. It should feel controlling, or intimidating. Instead, it feels like a Daddy taking care of his little. It warms me up from the inside out.
When I finish, he nods. "Good girl. Now back to work."
"That's it?"
"That's it. For now." His eyes darken slightly. "But tonight, after your book club meeting, we're going to discuss why you thought you could skip meals and then lie to me about it."
Heat pools low in my belly. "Discuss?"
"Discuss. And potentially remind you who's in charge of making sure you take care of yourself."
"Oh."
His mouth curves. "Oh, indeed. Now go." He swats my bottom playfully as I turn and leave the room.
After I lock up my office, I find Justin waiting for me. He holds out his hand and I take it. “Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.” He leads me down the sidewalk and towards the Chapel. He unlocks the door and motions me inside before turning to face me. "I have something for you."
"What is it?"
He leads me to the back of the chapel, to a small door I've never noticed before. He unlocks it, pushes it open.
Inside is a tiny room. A reading nook, essentially, built into the eaves of the chapel, with a window overlooking the park. There's a large comfortable chair, a small bookshelf, and a table with a lamp. It’s cozy and intimate. Is it for me? I turn and look at him.
"I had it built," Justin says. "Over the past month. While you were busy with work."
I stare at the space, throat tight. "You built this? For me?"
"For you. A place to write, to read, to just... be. You and your friends can use the chapel for your local book club meetings whenever you want, but this space is yours. Just yours. You can come here during the busy season or off season. Have your breaks in here or just come take a nap. This is your space at the park. A place only for you."
I turn to him, tears streaming down my face. "Why?"
"Because you're always taking care of everyone else. You need a space that's just for you. Where you can be quiet and still and just... Holly." He knows me. He knows how I thrivearound people and crowds but also need time to recharge after being overwhelmed or overstimulated. He’s paid attention to everything. Every part of me.
"I don't know what to say."
"Say you'll use it. Say you'll come here when you need to recharge." He wipes away my tears. "Say you know how much I love you."
"I know. I love you too."
He pulls me close, and I bury my face in his chest, overwhelmed by the gesture. By his thoughtfulness. By how well he knows me.
"There's more," he says after a moment.
"More?"
