Page 60 of I Shouldn't Feel This Way

All the more reason to get my problems with the wife under control,I said to myself.

Aria might have been safe from Vanessa’s influence, but if Vanessa and I were to have a child together, then psychological trauma would surely follow. Parents are usually the ones who fuck up their kids. I didn’t want to be one of those parents. I already felt like shit for abandoning my daughter the way I had, but I was trying to atone for my mistakes. It was a miracle she had turned out the way she did. Since the moment Aria had moved in with us, I’d felt so much happier, like there was actual life in this big house. Every morning I’d wake up looking forward to seeing her beautiful face, driving her to school before going to work, thinking about her while I wasatwork. And at the end of the day, I took comfort knowing that she’d be right there waiting for me when I got home. It was nice knowing that someone was happy to see me and loved me enough to have dinner prepared on the table. Sometimes I’d get takeout, but on the evenings when Aria would cook, she would text me ahead of time to let me know that she was making dinner. That always put a smile on my face. I was so proud of her—I couldn’t even express how much.

Drifting off to sleep wasn’t exactly going as planned, since I couldn’t seem to shut off my thoughts. On top of that, I felt like my skin was suffocating in my slacks, so I took them off and lay under the throw blanket in my black boxer briefs.

Counting sheep got sidetracked when I heard footsteps down the hall. By the time I opened my eyes and looked up, my daughter was standing right above me.

“I can’t sleep. Can I cuddle with you for a bit?”

“Of course.” I shifted over.

Aria lay next to me, as I shared the blanket, sliding my arm under her neck. I was about to close my eyes again when she turned on her side and looked at me.

“Everything okay?” I asked.

She nodded and moved in closer, hugging my waist. I could sense that she needed me. She looked a little down. Maybe she knew about why I had been fighting with Vanessa.

“Noah?”

“Mhm?”

“Am I beautiful?”

I was right. My wife’s superficial beauty practiceshadbeen affecting her. This was not good.Time for damage control.I kissed her forehead and ran my fingers through her hair.

“Your beauty is unmatched, Aria. I’m sure all the boys at your school are lining up after you.”

She smiled and giggled a little, which let me know that there was truth to what I said.

“Well, yeah,” she began. “I’d be lying if I said there weren’t any guys interested in me. But I wanted to know ifyouthink I’m beautiful.”

It touched me to know that she held my opinion in such high esteem. “That’s not a difficult question for me to answer, because the answer is obvious.” I smiled a bit and caressed her warm cheek. “I’m so proud that you’re my daughter. I don’t ever want you to change a single thing on your body or pretty face. You are perfect the way you are.”

“Then how come Vanessa keeps changingherbody image?”

I’d hoped she wouldn’t ask me that question.

“Because she doesn’t believe that she’s beautiful the way she is. I’m trying to help her accept herself.”

“So you don’t think I need lip injections or a brow lift? Some of the girls at my school are planning to get those done.”

“Aria, please promise me you won’t ever go under the knife, unless the problem is life threatening. You don’t need any sort of enhancement, sweetie. I love the way you look.” I brushed my thumb over her perfectly arched eyebrows. “Andtheseare perfect. I adore them. So are your lips.”

Finally, she smiled.

“I love the way you look too.” Her hand slowly moved down my chest, and my heart stopped beating for a second, only to start pumping blood through my valves at an erratic rate. It was probably not a good idea that she was touching me like this. I was already sexually frustrated. (Not that I would ever do anything or try anything on my daughter! I would never cross that line.)

“I want to work out with you,” she said, caressing my abdominals.

“You don’t need vigorous exercise, though. I don’t want you all skin and bones.”

“I know, but your abs are amazing—they’re super hard. I’m kind of jealous.”

If she keeps touching you like that, something else will be super hard,my conscience warned.

“Are you telling me you want a bodybuilder’s masculine physique?”

I know I’d probably get crucified by a handful of feminists if I voiced this opinion publicly, but I strongly believe that women should always maintain their femininity. Pumping iron and injecting steroids only makes them look like men with vaginas.

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