"I thought there were only two types of love The one you'd kill for And the one you'd die for But you ,my sunshine, You were the kind of love I would live for "
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I collapse against daddy's chest, the smell of his cologne grounding me in the warmth of his embrace. Every word I try to form is lost in a torrent of gasping sobs, and all I can manage are muffled, broken sounds against the fabric of his shirt.
My heart is heavy, twisted with confusion and a hurt I don't know how to handle, and the only thing keeping me from completely falling apart is his familiar, comforting presence.
Daddy holds me tight, one large hand rubbing soothing circles on my back, his voice a low, steady hum. "Shh, baby," he murmurs, voice soft yet filled with a protective edge. "It's all right, my princess. I'm here. Whatever it is, I'm here, okay?"
"He... he told me it was wrong. Wrong of me to... to tell you everything. Said I was... wasn't right," I whisper, words splintered between my shaky breaths. "Daddy, is it wrong? Is it wrong that I get to tell you everything? To... to tell you when something felt off?"
I barely recognize my own voice; it sounds so small, fragile. I'd never questioned whether I could confide in him, and the doubt creeps in, making me feel like I've done something terribly wrong. I cling to him, desperate for reassurance.
Daddy's hand stops moving on my back, his arms wrapping around me even tighter. "No, no, princess," he says firmly, his voice steely with anger. "No one-no one has the right to tell you that you can't talk to me about what's going on in your life. Especially not him."
There's a bitterness in his tone, and though it's directed at Aadam, it somehow eases the ache in my chest just a little. "Boys like him... they don't deserve girls like you, Renna. Don't know how precious you are. They take things for granted. You deserve better than that."
But his words, as much as I want them to soothe me, only bring another wave of tears.
"But, Daddy... I love him," I choke out, my voice barely a whisper. It feels like an admission, one I can't hold back, no matter how much it hurts to say it. "I love him so much, and it... it hurts, Daddy. I don't know how to stop it from hurting."
His grip on me tightens, and he sighs, "Oh, princess," he whispers, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of my head. "I know, I know... but sometimes love isn't enough if he doesn't see how special you are. And I'm not going to let you get hurt by someone who doesn't understand what he's got in you."
I want to believe him. I want to believe that maybe Aadam just doesn't understand, that he could realize and... and change. But that small hope feels fragile, almost foolish.
Mama is sitting across from us, watching quietly, and there's something almost amused in her expression as she observes my daddy's reaction.
When I catch her gaze, she tilts her head, a slight smile playing on her lips. "Renna, sweetheart," she says, her tone light yet curious, "can you tell me exactly what happened?"
