Chapter Thirty-Four
Melissa
Sleep wasn’t something that often eluded me. Not since my brother started sleeping in my room when I was seven.
When he joined the Silver Shadows and moved me into his apartment at thirteen, he placed both our beds in the same room until I felt safe enough to sleep alone. It only took six months for me to accept that I was safe.
Last night, I didn’t sleep well. Not because I felt unsafe, but because I was grieving the loss of the little girl who was given to me and then taken away.
I only had myself to blame. I knew better than to get attached. But come on, who wouldn’t get attached to the sweetest little girl in the world?
How did anyone take care of someone who was completely reliant on you for their every need and not love them?
Maybe it was because I was a woman. I was a nurturer. It’s what led me into the profession I chose. My deep-seated need to help people. To heal them.
To love them.
I wanted someone to love me.
Dani loved me. Children loved everyone. Until you gave them a reason not to. But children gave second chances easily. Hell, they gave seven hundred chances. Children didn’t need to be taught how to love. They were taught how to hate. They were taught how to be mean.
Sure, kids could say some very mean things, they had no filter. But when a child spoke out of turn, telling a woman she was fat, or a man that he looked weird, it wasn’t done with malicious intent.
Children dealt in facts.
They didn’t know how to manipulate. That was something they learned from the people in their lives.
I went to church once. Not long after Gunner walked away. I was looking for answers. Why wasn’t I enough to love? Why did my parents let Gunner take me away? Why did Gunner walk away?
Anyway, I went to church and the man behind the pulpit was preaching, about what, I couldn’t tell you because the only thing that stood out to me was this one thing he said.
“When your baby cries down the hall, and you walk in the room and they immediately smile at you, you’ve just been manipulated.”
I sat there wondering where he got that idea from. Through the rest of the sermon, I thought about what he said. This man, who preached about God’s love, about how our Father in Heaven loved us unconditionally, believed that a child who was crying because they were scared, hungry, sad, any number of emotions they couldn’t express any other way than to cry out, had the brain capacity to manipulate with their cries.
Who fucking thought that way?
Children were born knowing absolutely nothing. They learned what we taught them. There was an old poem, children learned what they lived.
If children live with criticism, they learn to criticize.
If children live with hostility, they learn to fight.
If children live with ridicule, they learn to be shy.
If children live with shame, they learn to feel guilty.
If children live with tolerance, they learn to be patient.
If children live with encouragement, they learn confidence.
If children live with praise, they learn to appreciate.
If children live with fairness, they learn justice.
If children live with security, they learn to have faith.
If children live with approval, they learn to like themselves.
If children live with acceptance and friendship, they learn to find love in the world.
Children learned what they were taught. Babies didn’t know how to manipulate. They cried because that was how they communicated. They smiled because they were genuinely happy to see that their parent—the one person they should be able to trust, to depend on—came to them when they were upset.
Children knew how to love. Until they were taught not to.
It was why so many young women had babies before they were ready. They believed that if they had someone to love them unconditionally, everything would be right in the world.
The problem was, women who came from trauma never learned how to love someone else. If they didn’t know how to love, they couldn’t teach someone how to love.
I didn’t believe my parents loved me. Not considering what they did. What they allowed.
I knew in my heart Gunner loved me. He showed me how to love. He didn’t have to protect me. He didn’t have to pull me out of our home and away from our parents. He didn’t have to pay for my college.
Those were the sacrifices he made for me. Until I turned eighteen, everything Gunner did for me was a sacrifice on his part. I wasn’t his responsibility. But he chose to love me.
Until he didn’t.
Dani wasn’t my responsibility. I chose to sacrifice my practice, my education, my home. Everything I had worked for so that she had someone who wouldn’t walk away.
Then don’t walk away!
Stirring behind me pulled my attention to the man in bed with me. I looked over my shoulder and found a pair of steel-gray eyes watching me.
“Morning, Princess.”
“Morning,” I said back to him. I wasn’t sure how to proceed. I had never slept with a man the whole night before. Well, except last night, but I had Dani as a buffer. She woke, and I got out of bed to take care of her.
“You have plans for the day?”
“I’m not sure. I still haven’t had time to catch up with Haizley.”
“You need to talk to Gunner,” he said.
I turned away, giving him my back again. “I’m not ready for that.”
“Princess, I don’t know if you realized the bomb you dropped on him yesterday, but that shit needs to be talked about.”
Shit.
He was right. In my raging tirade at Danny, I let my secret slip out.
“Hey,” Travis murmured, pulling me in closer, resting his chin on my shoulder. “He loves you. But you gotta understand what that did to him.”
“I didn’t mean to say it.”
“I know. But it needed to be said. He needed to know.”
The back of my eyes burned as I closed them tight. Travis was right. I had to talk to Gunner.
And Danny.
I needed to apologize.
“I need to take a shower,” I said, trying to squirm away.
Travis let me go, and I expected him to follow. Was I disappointed when he didn’t?
Yes. Yes, I was.
Did I think he would say yes if I asked him to join me?
I knew he would.
Would I ask him to join me?
No.
Then don’t fucking whine about being alone.
I grabbed my bag, ignoring the bitch in my head who didn’t understand it was too fucking early to be logical.
When I stepped out of the bathroom with my wet hair piled on my head, Travis climbed out of bed and walked over to me. He kissed my cheek.
“Wait for me and we’ll get breakfast downstairs.”
He didn’t wait for a reply, just walked into the bathroom and left the door open while he got in the shower.
When he returned to the room, he was wrapped in a towel that hung low on his hips. I bit my lip watching him, willing the tucked end to come undone as he moved around, grabbing clothes.
I expected him to return to the bathroom to get dressed. What I didn’t expect was for him to drop the towel while he had his back to me.
I swallowed slowly as my eyes roamed over his back. The wide shoulders, the trim waist that led to the tight, very delectable ass that was almost eye level with where I sat at the end of the bed.
I had the most amazing sex with this man but had yet to see him naked. Until now.
He chuckled, and I looked up. My face hot with the flush of being caught ogling his backside.
“Like what you see?” He pulled his boxers up, covering my view, and turned around. Now another part of his anatomy was at my eye level, and while I couldn’t see it behind the boxers he wore, there was no mistaking the length and girth hidden from my view.
Hell, I remembered how he felt. I knew he wasn’t small. But Good God! He really did have a freaking anaconda.
Giggling at myself as I stared at his dick, I saw it twitch behind its covering. My eyes shot up, and he smiled.
“I love that fucking giggle.”
I rolled my lips between my teeth and looked away. Afraid if I spoke, I would embarrass myself further. Travis finished getting dressed, and he held my hand as together we walked downstairs to the main room.
It wasn’t full, but there were two very distinguishable voices that caught my attention immediately.
“Danny, just let her have cake.”
“She can’t have fucking cake for breakfast. She wouldn’t go to bed without eating cookies and now she wants cake. What the hell has she been feeding her?”
I stiffened at his words, and Travis squeezed my hand.
“She’s talking. I don’t fucking care what she eats.”
“Cakes,” Dani whined, and I knew immediately what the issue was.
Walking over, the three of them turned and looked at me.
“Mama, cakes.”
Ignoring both men, I picked up Dani and held her to me.
“Shh, baby. It’s ok. You can have cakes.”
“Dr. Jefferson—”
“Danny, I think at this point you can call me by my name.”
“Melissa.” He sighed. “She can’t have cake for breakfast.”
My smile was tight, and I reminded myself he had been gone for three months.
By his choosing.
Nonetheless, he was her father, and he just didn’t understand.
“She isn’t asking for cake. She is asking for pancakes. They’re her favorite.”
I set Dani on the chair, telling her I would be right back. Walking over to where the food was laid out, I added some eggs, some fruit and one pancake to Dani’s plate.
I sat next to her, handing her the fork after cutting up her pancake.
“Eggs, first.”
“No,” she said as she tried to stab a piece of pancake.
“One bite, then eggs.”
“No.”
“Danika,” Danny said firmly, and I snapped my eyes to his. Before I could say a word, Haizley stepped in.
“Danny, we talked about this.”
“She’s my daughter,” he argued.
“And she has been with Melissa for two months. You need to be patient with the transition, for Dani. The three of you will need to sit down and talk about everything that has happened. You all have things to share with each other.”
Dante sat on the other side of Dani, trying to coax her into eating her eggs. When she shoved his hand away, I couldn’t help the smile. Despite the tears that welled up in my eyes.
“Missy, why are you smiling?” Dante asked.
“Because Dani is on the verge of a temper tantrum. She has been learning how to push her boundaries. And this is a huge step for her. And for you both.”
“What do you mean?” Dante asked, confused about how this could be a good thing.
“Dani hasn’t said no often. She pushes her boundaries with actions, not words. When she wants to get down, she squirms. When she doesn’t want to eat, she pushes the plate away. But today she said no.”
I looked up at Danny, my heart breaking with the truth of what I was about to say.
“Dani has her fathers home. She is comfortable and secure with you both, despite the time apart. So, she will push back more with you both here.”
“How does being comfortable with us make her push back more?” Danny asked.
“She knows she’s safe. Children inherently know who they can push back against.” Standing up, needing the space from Dani in order to slip back into therapist mode, I added, “Children who are afraid of their parents are quiet in their presence. They don’t draw attention to themselves. Whereas children who live in homes where they know they can push back without fear will do so often as they learn the differences between right and wrong. Excuse me.”