My Place, My Fate (Book 1: Fate Series)

Chapter 4

''I believe that what we become depends on what our fathers teach us at odd moments, when they aren't trying to teach us. We are formed by the little scraps of wisdom' – Umberto Eco.

The poking sensation was the most uncomfortable thing ever, making it the most effective wake up call.

Sophia.

I smiled inwardly not wanting to give away the fact that I was awake. I could hear her huff out in frustration at the obvious lack of response from me.

"Teddy, mama no wake." She huffed increasing the poking sensation of her finger on my cheek.

Deciding to put her out of her misery, I scooped her in my arms raining tickles on her.

"Mama, no twickle." She stuttered through her giggles.

I smiled at the sight.

This had become an everyday routine. She would wake me up, and I would tickle her before showering her with endless kisses on her chubby cheeks.

Initially, it had been a way of reassuring my self that she was indeed mine; that she had not been a figment of my imagination. Now though, it had become a way of simply showing my love of this child.

"Morning sweetie," I said, as I cuddled her on my lap.

"Mworning."

"How did you sleep?"

"Good mama."

"What do you want for breakfast sweetie?" I asked, watching her scrunch up her face seriously.

This too had been a morning ritual of sorts. I would ask her what she'd want for breakfast, for her to take her time deciding- as though it was the most important decision of her life- before responding with the same answer each and every day since the time she could eat solid foods.

"Pwancakes." She squealed.

I smiled at the glee depicted on her face. It made it hard to say no to her at times, when she would look up at you with those large green eyes of hers that shone of nothing but innocence and love. It was always my undoing.

"Fine sweetie. How about you wait for me in the kitchen while I get cleaned up."

"Okay."

She slid off my bed before heading for the kitchen. I got out of bed and headed for the en-suite shower in my room to freshen up.

I looked a mess. I felt like it too. I barely caught a wink of sleep last night, what with the storm, and Sophia, and-

I instantly froze.

Him. The stranger. Sophia's father.

I sprinted out of the bathroom; through the bedroom, down the hallway, and into the living room, where I was greeted by the sight of my daughter and the stranger locked in a gaze.

He most definitely had not been a dream.

As though sensing my presence, the stranger turned his gaze towards me.

His short dark hair was in disarray and his chest bare. He turned away from me, letting his gaze take in the sight in front of him.

It was heart wrenching watching him soak in the sight of his daughter in something akin to awe. As though she was not truly there but merely a dream concocted from his imagination.

"Mama," Sophia called gaining my attention. "Who tis?"

I sighed. I knew this moment would come, I guess I had hoped to put it off for as long as I could.