Page 13 of Protect Me Daddy

Looking into his eyes, I saw nothing but sincerity and care. For the first time in a long while, I felt truly protected.

I woke to the scent of cinnamon and vanilla, my body cocooned in the softest cashmere I'd ever felt. I was sleeping in Dwight’s spare room, surrounded in outrageously cosy blankets. The guyreallyknew his fabric. Blinking sleepily, I padded into the kitchen, drawn by the sizzle and pop of something delicious.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," Dwight's deep voice rumbled, a hint of amusement coloring his tone. He stood at the stove, expertly flipping a piece of French toast.

"Mornin'," I mumbled, rubbing my eyes. "Smells amazing."

He chuckled, plating the golden-brown slice. "Hungry?"

I nodded, settling onto a stool at the kitchen island. As I watched him move with practiced ease, a warmth spread through my chest that had nothing to do with the steaming mug of cocoa he placed before me.

Days melted into a comforting rhythm. Evenings found us curled up on the couch, my head on Dwight's chest as he read aloud from "The Wind in the Willows." His voice, deep and soothing, lulled me into a peaceful headspace where worries seemed distant.

Worries about Earl, and my old life in general, melted into the past.

"...and Rat," Dwight continued, one hand absently stroking my hair, "he was bewitched, entranced, fascinated. By the side of the river he trotted as one trots, when very small, by the side of a man who holds one spellbound by exciting stories..."

I snuggled closer, feeling small and safe in the best possible way.

One afternoon, I wandered into Dwight's home office, clutching Red Rabbit. He looked up from his desk, a smile softening his features.

"Everything okay, sweetheart?" he asked.

I nodded, suddenly shy. "Red Rabbit wanted to keep you safe while you work," I explained, my voice small.

Dwight's eyes crinkled with warmth. "That's very thoughtful. I'm sure she'll do an excellent job." He cleared a spot on his desk, patting it invitingly.

I carefully propped Red Rabbit against a stack of files, whispering, "Watch over Daddy, okay?"

As I turned to leave, Dwight caught my hand, pressing a gentle kiss to my knuckles. "Thank you, baby girl," he murmured.

I blushed, ducking my head as I scurried out, my heart full to bursting.

The next morning, I jerked awake, a scream tearing from my throat. Earl's leering face lingered behind my eyelids, his grasping hands reaching for me even as I fought to shake off the nightmare's hold.

"Shh, baby girl. I'm here. You're safe." Dwight's arms encircled me, solid and warm.

I buried my face against his chest, inhaling his comforting scent as sobs wracked my body. "He . . . he was . . . "

"I know, sweetheart. I know." Dwight's hand stroked my back in soothing circles. "It wasn't real. You're here with me now."

As my breathing steadied, Dwight gently tilted my chin up. His eyes, dark with concern, searched mine. "Tilly, have you ever considered how Littlespace might help you process this trauma?"

I blinked, confused. "What do you mean?"

He shifted, pulling me closer. "Remember Sarah, the woman I told you about? Her recovery truly began when she allowed herself to be small and vulnerable in safe hands."

The concept intrigued me, but fear niggled at the edges. "Isn't that . . . weird?"

Dwight's voice was gentle but firm. "No, sweetheart. Sometimes we need to revisit innocence to heal from darkness."

I chewed my lip, considering. "How does it work?"

"It's different for everyone," Dwight explained. "But the core is feeling safe enough to let go of adult worries and responsibilities. To be cared for, protected."

The idea was both terrifying and oddly appealing. "And you . . . you'd keep me safe?"

"Always," Dwight vowed, his arms tightening around me. "Being your Daddy . . . it gives me purpose, Tilly. It helps balance out the ugliness I see in my work."

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