Page 33 of Losing his Daddy

I shook my head roughly. “No, I — that’s my old life. I don’t want to reflect on that time.”

“Understandable,” he said without an ounce of judgement.

I left him unpacking his belongings with a promise I’d return the next morning with my personal items. He’d asked me to come back that first night. I’d declined because I thought it would be best for him to break in his new home alone.

That and I needed another night to distance myself from the dream version of him and reality.

“How did your first day go?” Princess Aster asked as he opened the door for me.

I shrugged. “It went fine. His ex-fiancée showed up. She made a big fuss for a while, then left. It wasn’t too bad. The rest of the day was better though.”

“That’s good. Did you have dinner? If not, I’ve saved some leftovers for you.”

“No thanks. I ate earlier. We got him moved in, so tomorrow I’ll be out of your hair completely.’

Princess Aster frowned. “You’re not a bother, Gerald. It’s been nice having you around. Plus, Daddy has been too busy making sure he’s a good host to monitor candy rations. It’s great!”

“I heard that, Princess!” Charlie called from somewhere in the house.

Chuckling, I shook my head at the frown on the man in front of me. “You should have known he’d hear. The main rooms echo a lot.”

I’d discovered that the first night here. When the group was around and chattering, you couldn’t tell. The second they got quiet, it was as if everything became magnified. I heard every breath, every step throughout the big space.

Princess Aster stuck his hands on his hips. “I forgot! Plus, I thought he was still in the bedroom.”

Charlie walked up behind his husband, a smirk on his features. He pulled him to his chest. “No need to sulk, Princess. You still get loads of candy most days. I only monitor it when you’re also stressed with work.”

“I’m always stressed with work.”

“And that’s why I limit things.” Charlie pressed a kiss to his husband’s forehead. The two fit together like puzzle pieces, their ends lining up just right. I could see it so easily. They made sense in every way possible.

Had there ever been a time I fit with someone that way?

The answer was no. Not truly.

I’m not the type to think relationships should be easy. I am, however, a believer that those who are meant to be will find a way. And for as much asheand I were together, we also weren’t. He was my Daddy, but only when we were alone. Never once did he show me affection that could be described as romantic in front of others. Not even as he was leaving this world.

“It’s pretty late. I think I’ll head on to bed,” Gerald told the couple. They turned to him with relaxed smiles in place.

“Of course. By all means, don’t let us keep you,” Charlie told him. “We'll see you for breakfast though, right?”

“Not unless you plan to be up really early. I need to be there in time to cook breakfast. It’s part of my duties.”

Princess Aster hummed. “I doubt I’ll be up that early. I’m not going to let this be a goodbye or anything. It’s more like a ‘see you later’, ok? You cannot become a stranger now that you’re so close.”

“I promise to keep in touch. Work will likely keep me busy, but I'll definitely make time for everyone.” At my agreement, he gave me a quick hug, then dragged Charlie away to their room.

I bustled into my own space to make sure I didn’t accidentally hear anything I wasn’t supposed to. My bags were still mostly packed since I hadn’t wanted to get too settled. I added the last few loose items into my duffle, then sat on the bed.

It was another new change for me. And boy did it feel like a big one.

As much as I’d have loved to celebrate getting the job with Wes, I couldn’t. Because in my mind, celebration meant drinking. And so did sorrow. And anger. And almost every other type of big emotion. My mind equated the alcohol to a cure-all, even though it wasn’t.

I’d only learned that during one of the many therapy sessions I was put through. If you’d asked me, I’d have only said I drank when I was sad. I’d have even said it was an occasional habit.

Occasional did not equate to every single day. Which, at the end, was exactly what I’d been doing. There were fewer times I was sober than there were with me drunk.

I pushed away the far too reflective thoughts to finish getting ready for bed. In no time, I was in pajamas and tucked under the soft comforter. Despite the relaxed position, I still struggled to go to sleep. I couldn’t help but think of Wes and how he was doing in his new home.

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