Nature vs nurture?
Don’t mean shit when the former’s cursed.
But the latter… I see it every time she’s with Lottie.
The way she holds her. Talks to her. The way Lottie lights up in return.
I wasn’t shocked when she said she wanted a kid. I’ve seen it in her eyes for months: the dawning softness, the longing…
She wasmadeto be a mother. And any kid would damn near win the lottery with her for a mum.
But me?
I’m the thing fathers are supposed to protect their kids from – mothers too.
Only this ain’t about parenthood.
She made that clear.
No strings, she said.
And yeah, I told her she had no idea what she was asking for, but maybe she does.
Maybe I’m the one running scared.
Because this ain’t just about protecting her, or some hypothetical kid.
It’s about me.
Protectingme: from her, from this… the crazy hold she’s had over me since the day we met.
I pace the room. Hands in my hair. Heart pounding. Nothing helps.
Not breathing. Not cursing. Not tearing at my scalp like I can rip the tension out.
Because I could do it. Say yes. Give her what she wants. Walk into a clinic, sign the papers, make it neat.
But there’snothingneat about this.
Not when it’s her.
I’d lie for her.
Fight for her.
Burn down the world if someone hurt her.
But this?
She’s offering me a piece of her future – a permanent one – and acting like it’s just another transaction. A business deal.
Like it wouldn’t bury itself under my ribs and live there always.
She’s already the first thought in my head every damn morning. The woman I see when I close my eyes at night. I’ve built my life on being close enough to protect her, but far enough not to touch her. Not to ruin her. Not to ruin me.
Now she’s asking me to come closer than I ever imagined.
No strings.
