Page 90 of Daddy's Muse
One Year Later
I thought Pappa was joking when he told me to close my eyes and keep them closed, but the way his big hand rested firm at the small of my back made me obey without question. As we made our way down the hall, I couldn’t help the grin that tugged at my lips.
“Pappa, what are you doing? Why are we upstairs?” I asked, trying not to peek.
“You’ll see, kaninen min,” he murmured, voice thick with that quiet excitement he usually kept so tightly under control. “Just a few more steps.”
He guided me to a stop. My toes curled against the floor, and I felt the warmth of his chest at my back as his strong arm slipped around my waist.
“Ready?” he whispered against my ear.
I nodded, breath caught in my throat.
His hand left me only long enough to push a door open. Then, with one gentle brush of his fingers over my eyes, he said, “Look.”
I blinked, and the air rushed right out of me.
The room was…magical.
The walls were painted in soft, snowy whites and pale blues, dotted with tall, shadowy trees that seemed to stretch into the ceiling. Tiny fairy lights twinkled like distant stars threaded through the painted branches. A thick rug, the color of fresh snow, covered the floor, with plush woodland animals scattered across it—a fox, a deer, a hedgehog, and an owl. In the corner, a little tent made of white canvas glowed from within, lined with soft pillows and blankets.
And along the back wall sat a toy chest painted with frosted pine trees, its lid propped open to reveal neatly stacked blocks, cars, and coloring books.
It felt like stepping into a storybook winter forest.
A place just for me.
My hands flew up to my face, but it was no use—the tears welled too fast. “Pappa…” My voice cracked.
He wrapped me up before the sobs could even begin to fall, his arms strong and steady around me. His lips pressed to the top of my head. “Do you like it?”
“I—” I sniffled hard, clutching his shirt like I might fall without it. “I love it.I love it so much!”
He rocked us gently, kissing my cheek. “Good. Then it’s perfect—you deserve perfect.”
I laughed through the welled-up tears, burying myself deeper into him.
For a long time, I’d wondered if the heaviness in my chest would ever ease, if I’d ever feel safe enough to really let go. Butstanding there in Pappa’s arms, surrounded by a room built just for the littlest, most vulnerable parts of me, I knew the answer.
I was safe, and I was eternally his.
And I believed that without a doubt.
I didn’t even realize I was slipping until the tears were already falling and my reddened eyes darted between the toys, the twinkly lights, and the way the tent looked like a secret hideaway made just for me. My chest hiccupped, and I heard the sound that gave me away—a tiny, high little giggle I couldn’t swallow back.
Pappa’s arms tightened. He knew. He always knew.
“You wanna see inside the tent, lille prinsen?” he asked, his voice gone soft and playful.
I nodded fast, already tugging his hand towards it.
Pappa ducked down first, holding the flap wide open so I could crawl inside. The pillows were piled high, soft and fluffy like snowdrifts, and I immediately plopped onto my knees in the middle. My fingers sank into a plush arctic wolf that seemed to smile up at me, and I hugged it tight to my chest.
Pappa followed, settling his big frame down with careful slowness so the whole thing didn’t collapse. Once he was in, he reached for me, pulling me back against him so I sat nestled between his legs, warm and safe in his lap.
“You really like it, sweetheart?” he murmured, brushing my hair back from my face.
“Yes, Pappa,” I whispered, nuzzling into the stuffie’s fuzzy ears. “I love it. I love it so, so, so much! I’m going to live in here for the rest of my life!”
