Page 61 of Dark King Daddy

“What are you afraid he’ll do?”

I almost gave her the polished answer.

Use it against me.

Misunderstand.

Lose respect.

Those were true.

They were not the deepest truth.

“I’m afraid he’ll laugh.”

“Honey.” She touched my hand.

“But there’s more.”

“There is?”

“Some part of me wants it so badly I don’t trust myself around him.”

Zoe did not react.

That was why I had told her years ago. She made room around the truth instead of treating it like a spectacle.

I continued.

“I want rules sometimes. Clear ones. I want someone to notice when I haven’t eaten and not accept whatever excuse I give. I want praise when I’m good.”

My throat tightened around the last word.

I forced myself to keep going.

“I want discipline when I push. I want to be able to stop managing everything for a few hours and have someone else decide what happens next. Food. Sleep. What I wear at home. Whether I’ve done too much.”

Zoe’s eyes stayed on mine.

“I want to surrender control,” I said. “Not all of it. Not forever. But enough that I can rest.”

There.

The truth sat between the coffee and the cake.

Small. Exposed.

“And I think he could be so, so good at taking it.”

She smiled tenderly.

“Sometimes,” I said, “I look at him and want to hand him every difficult thing I’ve ever carried.”

My voice sounded thin.

“I want him to tell me he has it. I want to believe him. That is the danger.”

Zoe nudged the cake toward me.