Page 147 of Sinful Blaze

I can’t take her withdrawal. Not from me.

Sofi wraps an arm around Daphne and guides her toward me. “Handle your shit, man.”

Daphne bursts into tears. My first instinct is to wrap her up and hold her as close as humanly possible. Protect her from the world and whatever, whoever, just hurt her.

Sof leaves with a muttered, “You broke it; you fix it. I’m out.”

Grimacing, I scoop Daphne up and carry her to my office couch. She lets me pull her onto my lap, to my surprise. But it’s a long several minutes before she calms down enough to talk.

“I hate the silence,” she mumbles against my chest. “That’s how I know I fucked up.” Daphne sniffs and straightens to look me in the eye. “My parents wouldn’t acknowledge me until I was perfect again. I stopped existing whenever I messed up.”

“Jesus, Daphne. I?—”

“They do it to each other. They decided to make it permanent for my sister, since she messed up so bad that she’ll never be perfect again in their eyes.” Daphne snorts. “I keep trying to mess up bad enough they’ll leave me alone. Oh, the irony.”

I don’t say anything. This isn’t my time to speak; it’s hers.

Daphne shudders. “One time, I fell and scraped my knee at a birthday party. Bled all over my dress. My mother was so embarrassed, she didn’t look at me for a week. Kept telling my father to tell me what she wanted to say. He just went with it.”

Anger flares up in me, hot and bright. But I say nothing. It’s not my turn to speak.

“I know I fucked up.” She plucks at my shirt absentmindedly. “You were right. But I… I don’t want to stop existing just because I made a mistake.”

I cringe. It’s so stupidly obvious how this all could’ve been avoided. I’m a fool for taking… I check the clock: six hours—to realize my mistake.

“Hey. Come here.” I ease her to sit up enough to look me in the eyes, and then I tip her chin up so she actually does. “Look at me, moya plamya, because I don’t say these words easily: I’m… sorry.”

She blinks, and blinks, and blinks again.

“I can admit when I’ve fucked up. I don’t do it often, though, so embrace the moment.”

“You don’t apologize often?” A playful little smirk tugs at her mouth. “Big surprise.”

“I don’t make mistakes often,” I correct teasingly. “For the most part, I’m damn near perfect.”

That earns a laugh. It’s soft, it’s light, and it’s everything to my ears.

“What I do do, a lot, is bury myself in work when I’m pissed off and don’t want to hurt anyone around me.”

When I don’t want to hurt the people I love. But that last word makes my lungs tighten, so I leave it as is.

Daphne looks down at her hands. “I know I pissed you off?—”

“Not in any way that matters.” I sigh and take one of her hands in mine. Her slender fingers fit so perfectly with mine, which are calloused and scarred from fights and dirty work that no one ever talks about but everyone needs me to do. “I was more pissed at those two assholes. Pissed for you, not at you.”

Daphne frowns. I reach up with my free hand to smooth the lines away with my thumb, and she leans into my touch.

I don’t know if I’ll ever get tired of that feeling.

Of being trusted.

“I need you to stand up for yourself. All the time, everywhere. Like you do with me without hesitation.” I offer a gentle smile. “Our baby needs you to stand up for yourself, too. Especially right now, when you’re the only one who can fight for her.”

“You’ll fight for her.” Daphne presses a soft kiss to my palm. “You’re her father. Hell, you fought for her today and she’s not even here yet.”

The whispers of my deepest fears circle through my mind. Usually, I manage to shut them up with something else.

But right now, maybe giving them a voice is the better choice.

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