I hear the click of the bedroom door as he walks in quietly. I’m still curled up on the couch, blanket wrapped around me, bookopen in my lap, pretending I didn’t just flinch when I heard his footsteps.
His voice is calm. Not angry. “What time did we agree on, princess?”
My throat tightens. I look down. “Ten, Daddy.”
“And what time is it now?”
I swallow and glance at the clock. “After midnight.”
I expect the lecture. The coldness. The emotional distance.
But Elijah kneels in front of me instead.
“You’re testing me,” he says, voice low. “To see if I’ll follow through. To see if I’ll change the rules when it’s inconvenient. Am I right?”
My eyes sting. I nod, barely.
Then I whisper, “I’m afraid that if I do something wrong, you’ll leave me. That you’ll get tired of me making mistakes, or not doing what you’ve told me. So... part of me looks for a reason for you to leave. I’m sorry.”
Elijah exhales slowly, his hands resting gently on my knees. He doesn’t pull away. Doesn’t scold. He just looks at me like he sees right through every wall I’ve built.
“Oh, baby,” he says softly. “You don’t have to earn my love by being perfect. And you won’t lose it by messing up.”
His thumb brushes over my cheek, wiping away a tear I didn’t realize had fallen.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he murmurs. “Not when you're sweet. Not when you’re scared. Not even when you push just to see if I’ll still be here.”
He tilts his head, eyes locked on mine.
“Iwillfollow through. Not because I’m mad. But because consistency makes you feel safe, doesn’t it?”
I nod again, trembling, ashamed, and still somehow relieved.
“I love you, even when you break the rules,” he says, voice steady. “But I’m still your Daddy. And you know what happens next, don’t you?”
There’s no malice in his tone. No anger. Just the truth.
My stomach flips. I whisper, “Yes, Daddy.”
He leans in and kisses my forehead. “Good girl. Now I want you to hear me, princess.”
His voice is low—steady, but not cold. It’s the kind of tone that slips beneath my skin and makes my heart race for a whole different reason.
I nod, trying to look at him, but the guilt keeps pulling my gaze down to where my hands twist nervously in my lap.
“I’m not punishing you because I’m angry with you,” he says, voice like velvet over steel. “I’m punishing you because you broke a rule. A rule we agreed on together.”
My throat tightens, and I force myself to whisper, “I know.”
“You disobeyed me,” he continues, tilting my head so I can’t avoid his gaze. “And when you break the rules, baby, there are consequences. That’s how this works. Not because I’m mad. Not because I want to hurt you. But because I love you, and I need you to trust that structure. To feel safe inside it.”
I blink quickly, but a tear slips free anyway.
Elijah lifts one hand, brushing another tear away with his thumb. “I want you to understand something, and I need you to hear it in your bones. Even when you disobey me—even when you’re being stubborn or scared—I love you. Nothing changes that.”
My lip trembles. “But I—”
He gently shushes me, moving closer between my legs, still kneeling, still completely focused on me.
