Page 67 of Daddy's Muse
We sat on the couch, a half-finished cup of tea in my hands, the late afternoon light spilling across the floor from the massive window in the den. Pappa had the news on low in the background, but his focus was more on me than anything else.
“You look like you’re thinking too hard,” he said softly, brushing his thumb over my knuckles.
I laughed under my breath. “Maybe.” A pause. “I was just… thinking about pets, actually.”
“Pets?” His brow lifted with mild surprise, though there was a warmth there too.
“Yeah.” I shrugged, embarrassed by how silly it felt. “I’ve always wanted one. A dog, or a cat. Something small. Just… I never could.”
“Why not?” His voice stayed gentle, but I could feel him trying to read me.
I chewed my lip, debating how much to tell him. But Pappa had a way of pulling the words out of me, like keeping them in was worse than letting them go.
“When I was little, it wasn’t even an option,” I said quietly. “My parents… they weren’t the kind of people who could even take care of themselves, let alone a kid or a pet. We didn’t really have a home—just… couches, cars, stuff like that. And when I finally lived with my grandparents, well… money was tight. I couldn’t ask them to feed another mouth. Not when they were already doing so much for me. It just felt selfish, you know?”
Pappa’s hand tightened over mine, firm, grounding. His gaze softened, though there was a shadow in it too—something protective, something angry at a past he couldn’t change for me.
“Sweetheart,” he murmured, pulling me a little closer, “you deserved a safe home, and a pet to curl up with, and every other little thing you dreamed about.”
My throat felt thick. “I know. But it’s okay. I’m… I’m used to not having those things.”
He tilted my chin until I had to meet his eyes. “Colby. You don’t have to ‘get used to’ not having anymore. You’re with me now. If you want a pet, we’ll get one. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you happy.”
I let out a startled laugh, shaking my head. “I can’t just— It’s not that easy, Pappa.”
“Why not?” His expression was steady, resolute. “I can afford it. And you—” He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to my temple. “—you’ve earned it. You deserve everything you’ve ever gone without.”
The words settled into my chest like a weight and a balm all at once. I blinked hard, fighting the sting behind my eyes. “You always make it sound so simple.”
“That’s because it is.” His thumb traced over the back of my hand again, patient, steady. “If it makes my boy happy, then it’s simple.”
I leaned back against the cushions, pulling my knees up a little, like I could tuck the old ache away with my body. “Sometimes I used to imagine it,” I admitted, my voice low. “Like… if I had a dog, maybe I wouldn’t have felt so alone all the time. Someone who would’ve been excited to see me. Someone I wouldn’t have had to earn love from. Just… unconditional.”
Pappa’s jaw flexed, his eyes darkening, though his touch stayed gentle on my hand. I could tell he hated hearing it, hated knowing I’d ever gone without that kind of warmth.
“I’d imagine coming home from school, and there’d be this little wagging tail waiting for me. Or—” I gave a tiny laugh, self-conscious. “—a cat, purring on my pillow, like they were waiting just for me. It sounds so childish, doesn’t it?”
“Sweetheart,” Pappa said firmly, “there’s nothing childish about wanting to be loved.”
My chest tightened, and I had to look down, tracing the rim of my mug just to keep from crying outright. “I know it’s silly to want those things now. I mean… I’m grown. I should be over it.”
“Colby.” His voice sharpened, making me look at him. His eyes were steady, heated in that way that made my pulse skip. “You’re never too old to want comfort, or love, or to heal the parts of you that were left hurting.”
My throat burned, and before I could stop it, a tear slipped down. “I don’t want you to think I’m weak. That’s my biggest fear—that one day, you’ll see me as too much work.”
He caught the tear with his thumb, his touch warm and unyielding. “You are not weak. You are not too much. You’re mine. And I’ll spend the rest of my life proving to you that you’ll never be left behind again.”
I swallowed hard, my heart hammering so loud I could barely hear the TV anymore. “I don’t even know what to say to that.”
“You don’t have to say anything.” He kissed my forehead, lingering there for a breath. Then, pulling back, he gave me a look that sent a shiver through me—soft and commanding all at once. “Get up, sweetheart.”
I blinked at him. “What? Why?”
“Because we’re going,” he said simply, standing and tugging me up by the hand.
“Going where?”
His mouth curved into the smallest smile, but there was no mistaking the determination in his eyes. “To the shelters. We’re going to find you that wagging tail—or that purring pillow. Whatever you want. Today.”
