Page 23 of Saving Little Lina: Part Two

Dean was trying to protect me, perhaps, or maybe he feared how I might perceive him. Lying awake during a nap that evening, my thoughts circled around the day's revelations. My heart ached for the father I was just beginning to know, a man fighting his demons while reaching out to a daughter he had only just discovered.

Resolved to help him, I knew I couldn't let him face his battles alone. Our bond, fragile as it was, had given me insight into his vulnerability, and I was determined to strengthen it. I thought about Hank, and how he would handle such a situation with his characteristic wisdom and compassion. Making a mental note to seek his advice, I felt a flicker of hope. Perhaps together, we could help Dean find some semblance of peace and show him that he wasn't alone in his struggles.

That evening, the sky was painted in shades of orange and purple as Dean and I walked down the bustling streets of downtown. We had decided to spend the evening together. The air was filled with the aroma of street food and the distant sound of a jazz band playing at a nearby café. Dean had chosen a quaint little Italian restaurant, known for its cozy ambiance and live music.

As we sat down, he pulled out his pocket watch, an exquisite piece of craftsmanship with intricate engravings on its silver case. He handed it to me, his eyes gleaming with a mix of pride and nostalgia. "This was your grandfather's," he said softly. "He gave it to me on my eighteenth birthday. Said it was to mark the time of my journey into manhood. I've kept it close ever since. One day, it will be yours."

The weight of history and sentiment in his hands was palpable. I admired the watch, feeling the engravings with my fingertips, aware of its significance to him.

“I wish I could’ve met your father,” I said.

He smiled weakly. “He was a jerk to me growing up. His cruel voice never really left my head after he died. I value the watch because it’s expensive. Here, you can hold onto it for the rest of the evening.”

After dinner, we decided to take a stroll through the nearby park. The watch was still in my hand, and I was lost in thought, admiring it under the streetlights. That's when a playful golden retriever bounded up to us, its leash trailing behind. I instinctively bent down to pet it, and in the commotion, the watch slipped from my grasp, bouncing off the pavement and rolling into a storm drain.

I watched in horror as it disappeared. "Dean, I'm so sorry," I stammered n disbelief, my heart sinking.

He looked at the drain and then back at me. His smile was gentle, but his eyes betrayed a hint of sadness. "It's just a thing, Lina. Don't worry about it," he said, but his voice lacked its usual warmth.

He was trying to mask a sense of disappointment. The mismatch between his reassuring words and the tightness of his jaw was evident. He was proud, not one to show vulnerability, even to me, his newfound daughter.

"I understand it was expensive," I said, my voice trembling slightly. "Let me buy you a new one."

He shook his head, the corners of his mouth twitching into a forced smile. "No, Lina. I can’t accept that. But really, it's fine."

I could feel the weight of his pride, the invisible barrier it created. It made me think of the other help I had been considering offering him, regarding his mental health. Would he be just as reluctant to accept that?

He didn’t talk much for the rest of the evening. It was as if he had shut off from the world around him, and I felt horrible for what I had done.

Hank was waiting for us when we returned to Dean’s place. As I said goodbye to Dean, hugging him a little tighter, I couldn't help but wonder about the future. Would there come a day when he would let me in, allowing me to help him with his financial struggles and his mental health?

The ride back home with Hank was quiet. As he pulled up to our mansion, he turned to me with a concerned look. "How was your evening with your father?"

I knew Hank would understand and support me, no matter what. And so, I drew in a deep breath, ready to spill out the evening's events.

Chapter 5: Hank

WAKING UP TO THE SOFT MORNING LIGHT filtering through the curtains, I found myself in a peaceful state until my gaze landed on Lina. She was sitting up in bed, her small figure hunched over, clutching her stuffed wolf tightly against her chest. The usual sparkle in her eyes was replaced by a depth of unease that instantly tugged at my heart.

"Good morning, sweetheart. Did you sleep okay?" I asked, trying to infuse a bit of warmth into the cool morning air.

She didn't respond immediately, her gaze fixated on the stuffed animal in her lap.

“Are you worried about your father?” I asked.

"Daddy," she finally started, her voice barely above a whisper. "Would you ever lock me up for hours as a form of punishment?"

The suddenness of the question, so heavy with fear and vulnerability, took me by surprise. My thoughts raced, trying to understand where this was coming from.

"Lock you up? Princess, no," I said, my voice firm yet gentle, wanting to erase even the shadow of such a thought. "I would never do anything to hurt you or make you feel unsafe. You know that, right?"

She nodded slowly, but the uncertainty lingered in her eyes. The room was filled with a tense silence, one that seemed to stretch on endlessly as she gathered her thoughts.

After what felt like an eternity, she took a deep breath. "I need to tell you about my ex."

As she delved into her past with Finn, her words painted a picture so starkly different from the principles and care intrinsic to a healthy Daddy/Little dynamic. He had made her feel small, but not in the way a Little should feel—cherished and protected. Finn had stripped away her autonomy, dictating her every action down to the clothes she wore, insisting that a Little had no right to make her own decisions.

He had isolated her, manipulating her into believing her friends and family were against her, and that he was the only one who loved her.

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