Page 30 of Break Me, Daddy

When they finally parked in front of the pretty Tudor-style building with its delightful wooden accents and colorful landscaping even in the dead of winter, Frankie had to force herself to stay put until Holden came around to let her out. It was a lesson she’d learned the hard way when they’d been together before and she couldn’t imagine he’d changed his mind about her letting herself out of the car.

Hand in hand, they made their way inside, where they were immediately escorted back so a bouncy nurse with a bright smile could take Frankie’s vitals.

“Blood pressure looks good, heart rate is right on target.” The nurse beamed. “Just need to get your weight and we’ll be good to go.”

Panic wrapped around Frankie’s chest, squeezing so tightly she could barely drag in air. “Yeah. Sure.”

Large, gentle hands came to rest on her shoulders, easing some of the panic. Daddy was here, and he wouldn’t let anything bad happen to her. No matter what the number on the scale said, he’d be right there with her.

“Is that really necessary?” he asked, his voice tight with what sounded almost like anger.

To the nurse’s credit, her smile didn’t even falter. “It is. We do have protocols in place if Francesca doesn’t think she’s ready to see her weight just yet, though.”

“No. No, I’m good. I just… I’m good.”

“Frankie.” Turning her to face him, Holden cupped her cheeks, and the worry in his gaze had her fighting back tears. “Are you sure, baby?”

“Yeah. Um. When I was in rehab before, it was part of the recovery process. Getting us used to seeing our weight and not panicking about it. But we were only allowed to weigh once a week, not multiple times a day like I used to when I was really sick. I promise I’ll be okay.”

Still looking unconvinced, Holden nodded slowly. “All right. But you’ll tell me if it upsets you.”

It wasn’t a request, but an order, and for reasons she couldn’t explain that calmed her nerves more than anything. She would lean on him, because he wouldn’t give her a choice. “Yes.”

“Good.”

Time seemed to slow around them as she followed the nurse to the complicated looking scale. Stepping up onto the shiny steel plate, she watched the numbers scramble, her heart lodged firmly in her throat as they settled into place.

Five pounds. She was five pounds heavier than the last time Holden had caught her weighing herself at his house. Since she hadn’t been exercising, that was five pounds of pure fat.

Stomach rolling with disgust, she closed her eyes, reaching for the mantras she’d been taught.My weight does not define my worth. My weight does not define my worth.

“My weight does not define my worth.”

“Damn straight it doesn’t,” Holden growled, pulling her off the scale and straight into his arms. “I don’t give a fuck what the number on that scale says, and neither should you.”

Maybe it made her weak, that his embrace should settle her the way it did. That the tighter he held her, the more it felt like he was gluing the broken pieces inside her back together with just the strength of his arms. But right now, she was willing to be weak, because she was pretty sure she’d fall apart without him.

So she didn’t protest when he swept her up into his arms and carried her into the exam room. Or when he settled on the table, still cradling her on his lap.

“So fucking stubborn.” The words were a low grumble, accompanied by a gentle kiss to her hair. “I wish you’d listen to me, just once in your life.”

“I’m okay. Really,” she insisted when he growled low in his chest, wiggling around so she could look him in the eye. “It gave me a bad moment, but I’m better now.” Surprisingly, it was more or less true. She’d needed to put some weight back on. Objectively, logically, she knew that. And yeah, seeing it there in plain black numbers had been a bit of a shock, but she couldn’t hide from the scale forever.

A knock on the door cut off whatever he’d been about to say, and they both turned to look as Dr. Winters stepped inside, the same wide smile she’d worn at the hospital stretched across her face. “Francesca, Holden. It’s good to see you both.”

“Seriously, please call me Frankie.” Other than her parents, Holden was the only one who ever used her full name.

The doctor’s smile deepened. “Frankie, then. How are you feeling, Frankie?”

“Good. Really good, actually. The big brute here has been making me eat, even when I don’t want to, and according to your scale out there I’ve gained five pounds since he took the bathroom scale away.”

“Excellent news. You look like you’re feeling much better, and your vitals are all looking good, as well. And you’re feeling okay? No more fainting spells?”

“Not even a little dizziness.”

“Have you spoken to your therapist yet?”

Embarrassment heated her cheeks as Holden’s grip on her tightened. “No, not yet. Um, I’m going to call them back today.” Or tomorrow. Some time. Eventually.

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