Chapter 47
Sayla
His head was exactly where it should be—hovering between my open thighs—just not quite in this setting. It had taken him two weeks to recover from my family’s visit. The distress had been real. I’d had to reassure him a lot. Now here we were at the most crucial of times.
“Come on, Princess. You can do it,” he said, glancing up at me while his hand shifted between my legs.
“I cannot go potty while your hand is there,” I repeated.
“But I need to hold the stick.”
My eyes dropped to the tip of the white plastic resting beneath his thumb.
“I suggested a resolution an hour ago.”
“That was no more than ten minutes ago,” he said dryly.
I sighed.
Heavily.
I really needed to pee now and Daddy’s rickety knees probably couldn’t take much more of this.
I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply, finding my frogless pond zen mind palace—imagining the sound of the running water feature.
And I let go.
“Good girl,” Daddy exclaimed as the trickling sound continued.
I let it all out.
In and out.
Deep slow breaths.
His hand moved away.
The bidet blasted my nether regions.
I opened my eyes.
Daddy stood close to the window, staring at the white stick as though an answer might appear through sheer force of will.
I stood, pulling my underwear up and fixing my pretty summer dress. White with flame-coloured tulips. Light, sleeveless, flowing out at my hips. I didn’t know how Daddy knew my style so precisely—but I loved it.
He was pacing by the time I reached the sink.
The scent of bergamot and orange blossom filled the air as I washed my hands.
That was the first moment I imagined our baby.
A boy?
A girl?
A tiny human that was part of us both.
I glanced at him in the mirror’s reflection.
Daddy deserved to be happy. We both did.
I turned and closed the space between us, slipping my hands around his waist and holding him as tight as I could. His arms closed around me. He pressed soft kisses to my hair, my temple, my lips.
I thought I’d known what love was once. What I had with Daddy was something else entirely. Authentic. Real. I loved him so much it made my insides ache—in a variety of ways.
“I love you, Princess,” he whispered, beginning to rock me gently.
It was all ever so romantic.
If we weren’t in the bathroom.
“We did it,” he said. “Oh god. We did it. I did it. My warrior swimmers found their Valhalla.”
I pushed myself away from him and grabbed his arm. He held the stick in the air and I couldn’t see.
He began to laugh.
His entire face lit up.
Then it softened.
He offered me the stick—but I didn’t take it. It might have pee on it.
There was a faint second line in the small plastic window.
“We really did it,” I whispered with a slow smile.
Daddy lifted me to his chest and twirled me around.
It wasn’t only happiness I felt but something more solid.
Hope.
It had followed Pandora’s box and finally landed.
?
?
?
I licked the tip of my finger and turned the page of the baby and parenting magazine. Daddy had a weird fascination with paper. An online subscription would have been considerably cheaper.
His eyes were on me as soon as my finger went between my lips.
Daddy needed some kind of therapy. Ever since I’d peed—with zero dignity—on that stick he had become hypervigilant. I was escorted up and down the stairs on a daily basis. But I knew his fears, so I let him coddle me.
If I’d had Maya’s temperament he’d have had a cast-iron pan on his head by now. Or worse.
“Daddy,” I began innocently. “You know hormones during this time can make a woman very—needy.”
“Is that right?” he said, placing the book he’d absolutely not been reading on his lap.
I nodded.
“It’s like an itch I just can’t reach.”
The book moved to the table.
“Why don’t you come and sit on Daddy and I’ll see what I can do?”
I stared at him and the dark green armchair.
He reached for his belt and my magazine fell beside my feet.
A pampered pregnancy.
What more could a girl ask for?