Page 17 of Never Let You Go

“I will only bake bread for Your Majesty if I can marry the princess.”

I’m starting to root for the baker in the story, but soon, my thoughts are overtaken by Alexandra. “Impale the baker! How dare he!?”

Did Sophie try to write the story of my life? The baker not good enough for the woman hits very close to home. Except I never loved Skye’s mother, even if my daughter is the best accident that ever happened to me.

“Oh, wait, he wants to marry the other princess? Good riddance, here you go!”

Nope, not my story. Not getting married and certainly not to a princess.

When I finish reading Sophie’s flowery prose, Skye says, “You see, Daddy, all bakers get married.”

This again.

“That baker got married only because he wanted to. And you can tell Caroline, he was the best baker in the country before he got married—that’s why the king wanted his bread.”

She has a big smile on her face. “That’s true.”

“I do not want or need to get married,” I say and boop her nose.

Her face gets serious. “Anyway, Alek-zandra said she won’t marry you.”

“What?”

“I asked her. She said no.” She smiles.

“You—Okay.” I chuckle. “That’s just as well, because like I said, I don’t want to marry her either. Or anyone.” How many times do I need to repeat this?

Skye feels threatened by women. She has this irrational fear that a stepmother will turn her into Cinderella or, worse, try and have her killed like Snow White. Fucking tales. I’ve talked about it with her therapist, and she says it’s to be expected. So, I suppose it’s good she’s verbalizing. Heck, more than just verbalizing.

I tuck her comforter tight under the mattress, just how she likes it. “You’re all I need in my life.”

Her eyes grow wide. “But someday my prince will come and what will you do? You’ll be all alone. I don’t want you to be alone, Daddy.”

Some dude taking my only daughter? Over my dead body. Still, I reassure her. “That’s in a very long time. And I won’t be alone. I’ll have Justin, and Aunt Gracie, and the whole village.”

“Sophie, Cassandra, Uncle Craig and Aunt Lynn, Miss Emma, Miss Henderson, Kiara, Willow, Autumn—” Skye is counting on her fingers. We’re going to be here all night.

“See? Lots of people. I’ll never be alone.”

“Second story, Daddy!”

“That’s right! I almost forgot.” She chooses a Christmas story we’ve read over and over again, and before I’m done, her breathing has steadied and her eyes are shut.

I know it’s the comfort of a familiar story that lulls her, so I keep going until I whisper, “The end.”

And then she flits her eyes open and wraps me in a tight hug.

“Who do you want tonight?” I ask and go through the list of her stuffed animal family.

“The whole family, Daddy. They all need me.”

I stack the stuffed animals above her pillow. “Don’t you keep my little princess awake, you rascals!” I growl.

That always sends Skye giggling. She ties her little hands around my neck again and holds me tighter than usual. “I love you, Daddy.”

I pull her close to me, inhaling her baby soap scent. She’s who gives me strength, day in, day out. How is it that she’s already thought about moving out? I don’t want her to grow up. “I love you too. Sleep tight.”

“And don’t let the bed… bugs… bite.”

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