Page 128 of Let Me In

I nod. Because I want to. Because I will.

And then—so gently it makes my chest ache—

“Do you understand?”

I think I nod.

I think I understand.

But still, something in me catches.

The room feels too quiet all of a sudden, like his words are still echoing through it.

My cheeks burn and my breath stutters. I look down at our hands, still wrapped together, and then up again—just enough to meet his eyes.

And then I say it.

Or try to.

“You’re going to…” I pause. Swallow hard. My voice is barely a whisper. My voice is barely there, and it scrapes a little on the way out—tight and uncertain. “You’re going to… spank me?”

It feels strange in my mouth.

Not silly. Not dirty. Just… real.

Too real.

His expression doesn’t change.

Not a flicker.

He nods once. Calm. Steady.

“Yes, little one.”

And it’s the way he says it—like it’s something steady. Like it’s care, through and through. Like it’s just a form of care, the kind that leaves no room for pretending you’re fine when you’re not.

My shoulders drop the slightest bit, a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding slipping free. Because this isn’t about pain; it’s about belonging.

He doesn’t look away. Doesn’t flinch.

Like it’s okay.

Like I’m okay.

I don’t move. Don’t speak. Not right away.

The air feels thick, but not suffocating. Like a pause I’ve stepped into. Like time is giving me room.

He still has my hand. I didn’t realize how tight I’m holding until I feel the ache in my fingers.

But he doesn’t shift, doesn’t rush me. His thumb traces that same rhythm—soft and steady, like a heartbeat outside my own.

My eyes sting, though I’m not crying.

It’s just… a lot.

The kindness. The certainty. The fact that he hasn’t backed off even once, and somehow, it doesn’t feel like pressure.

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