Page 110 of Becoming His Perfect Daddy
I hadn’t heard from Sam since he’d walked out of that alley. But I didn’t notice any of his stuff missing from my house, either, so I took that as a good sign. That meant he was coming back. I could only hope it was to stay.
I just had to open up to him. I just had to ask.
The sun was setting as I typed “The End” and drew in a shaky breath. It was fucking done; I couldn’t believe it.
And I knew in my soul that this was my best book yet.
Sam, the perfect Daddy for me, had become my writing inspiration. Whyhadn’tI talked to him about it in person once we’d gotten together? It didn’t make much sense.
Except . . .
My writing was intensely personal. The manuscript I’d just finished had loomed large, and I hadn’t wanted to admit it wasn’t working—I hadn’t wanted to show Sam any weakness. Ihadn’t wanted to shatter his illusion of me as the perfect author, but in doing so, I’d hurt him. I’d hurt myself.
Now, with the manuscript done, it was time to apologize. And truly let him in.
But I had one thing to do first.
I opened my email, ignoring the draft I’d composed a week and a half ago for now and searching for the name of my old therapist’s practice. I hadn’t been to him in years, and I’d been ignoring the fact that my mental health had been steadily declining in recent years. I’d naïvely hoped I was done with therapy and didn’t need it any longer, but healing wasn’t a straight line upward. It was an ongoing process with good days, hard days, and days that made the struggle worth it.
After clicking on the “Schedule an Appointment” link in his latest email, I entered the requested information until I had an appointment set for the following week. My stomach was clenching as I hit the button to confirm the date and time, but I knew this was right. It was time to be better for me so I could be better for him, just like I’d said.
Appointment set, I navigated back to my email and my one unsent draft, feeling like I’d lived another life since I’d composed it. I supposed, in a way, I had. My books always transported me to another place.
Before I could overthink it, I reread the email once then hit send. The sound of an email sending whooshed through my laptop’s speakers, and my stomach tightened for the second time in as many minutes.
God, I hoped Sam would give me another chance.
***
Despite it being before fivepmon a Friday, Sam took all of ten minutes to respond to my email. A video call came in just as I’d finished in the restroom.
Gratitude flowed through me as I tapped to answer the call, dropping to my comfy couch with Prickles at my side. “Hi, Sam.”
“Baby,” he breathed, his voice full of longing and concern, and I legit swooned. “How are you?”
Hands and breath shaking, I smiled. “Better now. I’m sorry it took me so long to send you that email—I just . . .”
“You needed to be sure.”
I shook my head. “No, Sam, I’ve been sure for a long time. But I needed to finish something first. Can we see each other? I’d love to show you in person.”
His beautiful face lit up, and I couldn’t mask my grin. I didn’t want to. “Of course, baby! Can I come over now?”
I blinked at him. “Now? Aren’t you working?”
He waved at the screen, but the camera had started moving, telling me he was already packing a bag to head my way. Butterflies fluttered in my chest. “I don’t have anything going on, so I’m just going to tell Alex I’m taking off early.” His camera stopped shaking for a minute, and his furrowed brow was adorable as he focused on the phone. After about twenty seconds, he looked into the camera and smiled. “Done. Now, can I come over?”
I glanced down at my pajamas—I hadn’t even showered today, and if Tris hadn’t brought me a salad, I wouldn’t have eaten today, either. “Of course. Maybe bring dinner? I kind of need time to shower.”
Sam’s eyes narrowed, the Daddy look he’d been perfecting over the past few months piercing through me. I squirmed in my seat. “We’ll have to talk about you not taking care of yourself when I get there, boy.”
I blushed. “Okay, Daddy.”
Sam grinned, brighter than I’d ever seen. “God, I missed you, baby. I’ll be there soon.”
***
I’d just dried off and dressed when the doorbell rang. The sound made me jump, and as I rushed to answer it, I realized I’d never given Sam a key. We’d been dating, we were serious, he’d told me he loved me, and we were always at my house—and I’d never given him a fucking key. I’d been holding back this whole time without realizing it.
