Daddy's Healing Little Girl (Wounded Daddies 9)

She shakes her head and opens the sliding glass door. She cups her hands around her mouth and shouts, “I’m a little girl! I want a Daddy for a partner, a man who will guide me and take care of me the way a father takes care of a daughter except there’s sex and we’re not related. I’m a little girl and I want a Daddy! My name is Candace Elena Carter and I belong to a lifestyle called ageplay or DDllg.”

“God, stop!” I say.

She ignores me. “It’s a subset of BDSM, that’s the kinky stuff with whips and chains! Not too into the chains but if Daddy wants it, I’ll do it! I’m a little girl and I trust my Daddy!”

She turns and looks at me and there’s no more anger in her voice. “Or at least I’ll trust my Daddy when I have one. I don’t have a Daddy. I don’t have a boyfriend, and you don’t have me. Not anymore.”

“Can we just—”

“No,” she says. “No, we can’t. No more ending things on a good note. No more pretending. No more of that at all. It’s all or none, Thaddeus, and you’ve already decided it can’t be all.”

I watch her turn around and walk away. I want so desperately to say something to her, anything at all that might change this conversation into something else. She’s right, though. How can I expect anything from her when I can’t give my all to her.

I can’t talk to her that night.

I can’t talk to her the next day.

The third day arrives and there is still silence between us.

If Lyric and Phillip have any thoughts about the whole situation, they don’t share them with me.

On the fifth day of life without her, I walk by Candace’s room. She’s speaking in French to someone named Annamarie. She’s talking about loneliness. She sees me standing at her door, stands up and pulls it closed without saying a word to me at all. That door closing has a great deal of significance, far more than I want for it to have.

I walk to my room and step inside. Nobody is there. I’m alone. I’m completely, utterly alone.