Page 63 of Tuned To Break
“Just something I’ve been thinking about. You’re so good with people, so protective and caring. But when you said that in passing a few weeks ago, it got me thinking.”
I consider this. “I guess I never thought I’d be any good at it. Hard to know how to be a good father when you’ve never had one.”
“But you’ve figured out how to be a good man despite that.”
“Have I?”
“Jake.” She sits up, turning to face me. “You’re kind, loyal, and protective of the people you care about. You work hard, you’re reliable, you make me laugh. You’re nothing like your father.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because of this.” She reaches up to touch my throat gently. “The way you touch me here, during... you know. It’s not about control or violence. It’s about trust, connection. You do it because you know I like it, because it makes me feel safe and owned in the best possible way.”
Heat floods my system at her words, but it’s more than just arousal. It’s the realisation that she sees something in me that I’ve never seen in myself.
“Why do you like it?” I ask quietly. “The throat thing. I’ve never asked—just assumed it was something you wanted and didn’t push for the why.”
She’s quiet for a moment, her cheeks flushing slightly. “Promise you won’t think I’m weird?”
“Never.”
“It’s about trust, I think. Letting someone have that kind of control over you and knowing they won’t abuse it. It’s theultimate intimacy, isn’t it? Having someone’s hand on the most vulnerable part of your body and knowing they’d never hurt you.”
“And with me?”
“With you, it feels like coming home. Like I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be—and like even if the whole world fell apart, I’d still feel safe if I was here.”
The admission hits me square in the chest. This incredible, strong, independent woman trusts me with something so intimate, so vulnerable.
“Stella,” I say, cupping her face with my free hand, “I would never hurt you. Never.”
“I know. That’s why I can let go with you—why I can be completely myself.”
Looking at her in the dim light, her red hair falling over her shoulders, her green eyes soft with trust and something deeper, I’m hit with a realisation that nearly knocks the wind out of me.
I’m in love with her. Not the kind of love you can talk yourself out of or keep safely at arm’s length. The kind that digs in deep and doesn’t let go.
And more than that—I can see a future with her. A real future. Marriage, kids, growing old together. All the things I thought I’d never want, never be good enough for.
“What are you thinking about?” she asks, studying my face.
“You,” I answer honestly. “Us. How I never thought I was the settling down type, but with you...”
“With me, what?”
“With you, I can see it. All of it. The whole domestic bliss thing that used to terrify me.”
Her breath catches. “Really?”
“Really. You make me want things I’ve never wanted before. Make me think maybe I could be the kind of man who deserves a life like that.”
“Jake, you already are that kind of man.”
“Am I? Because sometimes I look at you and think about how much better your life could be with someone who has their shit together. Someone who didn’t grow up in a broken home with a deadbeat father.”
“Stop.” Her voice is firm. “Don’t you dare diminish yourself like that. Yes, you had a hard childhood. Yes, your father was a terrible person. But that doesn’t define you.Youdefine you.”
“How are you so sure?”
