Page 87 of Melt For Us, Daddy
Setting the plates in the sink, he turned back to the table, praying they couldn’t see the guilt and shame that was sitting like a rock on his chest, making it impossible to breathe. “Actually, I think I’m gonna go lie down. I’m kinda tired.”
Cordelia frowned, and for a moment he worried she’d push back. He wasn’t strong enough to resist her if she demanded he stay.
But then she nodded, slowly, and his knees nearly went weak with relief. “All right. We’ll be up to get you when rest time is up.”
“Okay.”
Something sharp twisted inside him at his own response. He’d gotten so used to calling her Ma’am, it felt wrong not to. But he couldn't bring himself to say the words, not when the shame was burning so bright inside him it felt like he might actually catch fire from it.
So he ignored that little twist in his gut and strode from the kitchen, and straight up the stairs to his room. Where he curled up on his bed, his eyes squeezed shut against the threat of tears, and tried to will himself to breathe.
Just breathe.
Cordelia
* * *
“What was that all about?”
Ivy’s thoughts mirrored her own as Cordelia stared at the doorway Jacob had just disappeared through. “I have no fucking idea.”
“Should we go up and check on him?” Worry colored Ivy’s tone. “He seemed upset.”
“He did.” But she wasn’t sure if she should check on him or not. With Ivy, she generally knew how to handle her different moods. Knew, with an accuracy gained over years of friendship and more, when Ivy needed space and when she needed to be smothered with attention.
But Jacob was a brand-new entity. She didn’t know him nearly as well as she knew Ivy. And even though her gut instinct was to march up the stairs and demand he talk to them, some part of her recognized that she didn’t really have that right. While she’d taken on the dominant role during their play, she wasn’t actually his Domme.
She was, as frustrating as it was to admit, a bit out of her depth. But there was one person at the table who seemed to understand Jacob, on a level Cordelia couldn’t.
“I don’t know,” she said, looking over at her babygirl. “What do you think we should do?”
Ivy blinked. “Me?”
If the situation hadn’t felt so heavy, she would have laughed at the sheer confusion on her girl’s face. “Yes, you, baby. Your instincts with him have been spot-on so far. So, what do you think we should do? Leave him to work through whatever’s bothering him on his own, or go up there and make him talk to us?”
Lips turning down in a thoughtful frown, Ivy looked back over at the doorway. “I think… I think there’s something wrong. And I think if we leave him to work it through on his own, it’s just going to make whatever that ‘something’ is even worse. I can’t explain it, it’s just a gut feeling.”
Reaching across the table, Cordelia gave her hand a hard squeeze. “Your gut’s been right so far. Go put your clothes on and we’ll go upstairs to check on our boy.”
Ivy immediately hopped up from the table and hurried toward the living room. Giving Cordelia enough time to clear the table—with a mental note to push something with plenty of protein on her girl for a snack later since she still hadn’t finished her sandwich—and soothe her own jumping nerves with a few deep, calming breaths.
By the time Ivy returned to the kitchen, fully dressed again, Cordelia was feeling much more in control of her own emotions. Silently holding her hand out, she linked her fingers with Ivy’s and together they made their way upstairs to Jacob’s room.
The door was closed, but not all the way, and her gentle knock sent it swinging slightly open. “Jacob? Can we come in, honey?”
A long silence was their only response. Sharing a worried look with Ivy, Cordelia pushed the door open further.
And her heart nearly shattered in her chest at the sight that greeted them.
Despite his size, he looked so small, curled up in that tight little ball on top of his comforter, a pillow held against his chest.
“Oh, Jakey.” Dropping Cordelia’s hand, Ivy raced across the room to climb up on the bed beside him. Facing him, but not touching him. “What’s wrong, baby boy? Talk to us.”
“Please go away.”
God. He sounded so young. So vulnerable. And even as it sent her own heart racing, it pulled her across the room to the bed where she climbed up behind him, sandwiching him between herself and Ivy.
Gently, so she wouldn’t startle him, she placed a hand on his shoulder and found it trembling. “Jacob. We need you to talk to us, sweetheart. Tell us what’s got you so upset.”
