Page 13 of Daddy's Reckoning
Starting with the punishment she deserved for failing her class.
That was a big deal, and I couldn’t let it go with some piddly-ass corner time or line writing. She needed to feel my hand on her ass, and be reminded what having a Daddy really meant.
The decision filled me with more peace than I’d felt in months, and a resolve that was greater than any other. The urge to march over to her apartment right then was strong, but it was late at night—past the bedtime I’d given her when she confessed to not getting enough sleep.
No, this was going to have to wait until tomorrow.
ERIN
When I finally rolled out of bed Saturday morning—almost afternoon, actually—I checked my phone for the millionth time.
No messages from Theo since I’d confessed to failing biochem by missing the final altogether. Not that that was the only reason. I’d probably have failed even if I had managed to show up.
He was disappointed. That was clear. I didn’t blame him. I was disappointed in myself. Pissed, even.
Questioning if I could even do this. Questioning if I even wanted to. But the year was over, and I didn’t have to make that choice today. Aside from my miserable performance in biochem, I’d actually done okay considering how much I’d been struggling.
It’s going to get better now, I promised myself as I rolled out of bed and padded to the bathroom. I was finally out of the first trimester, and the morning sickness had mostly ceased, although sometimes the prenatals got me if I forgot to eat before taking them.
After relieving myself, I washed my hands, pulled my hair into a messy bun, brushed my teeth, and checked out my reflection in the mirror.
My breasts were full and achy, but my skin had lost the sallowness that had undoubtedly been a result of being constantly nauseous, and I was finally starting to see that pregnancy glow.
My next step was to make myself a healthy breakfast, take a light walk around the neighborhood, then come back, do some reading, and spend some time figuring out what to do about my biochem grade and the fact that I’d be hugely pregnant when medical school started up again in the fall. While that question loomed large in my brain, I was thankful for the break. I needed the time to take care of myself and the little one growing inside me.
As I left the bathroom, intending to start my day in the kitchen, I never quite made it. My bed beckoned me, and climbing back into it was a temptation I couldn’t resist. My phone hummed on the nightstand, and I grabbed it, anticipating a text from Theo. I was trying not to take it too hard that he’d yet to respond to my message about my final grade, as I knew he had a standing obligation on Friday nights to be at the club he owned with his friends.
But today was Saturday, a new day, and surely he’d text me back. And hopefully, whatever he said or made me do would help to alleviate the huge rock of guilt in my gut.
But the notification wasn’t from Theo. It was an email from the college about summer school classes, further reminding me of my failure. Should I sign up? Try biochem again before my pregnancy brain got worse? Get the stress of it out of my head? If I only had that one class to focus on, maybe it would be easier. I’d have more time to dedicate to learning it, after all.
But that wasn’t at all how I planned to spend my summer. I needed a job, preferably one I could do from home, and I needed to save money to get my own place so I didn't have to cram the baby and myself into a tiny little bedroom, or subject Ashlyn to a crying baby all night.
Ugh. Suddenly my summer didn’t feel all that free or restful. I threw myself back on the pillows with a groan and stared up at the ceiling, trying not to cry.
Somehow I managed to keep myself together, with only one or two tears escaping to run hotly down my cheeks. I let them fall, not bothering to wipe them until they reached my chin and slid down my neck.
Had I been deluding myself when I made the decision that I could do this alone? Or at all?
I allowed myself five minutes to wallow in my private pity party, then wiped my face, blew my nose, and padded to the kitchen. The baby deserved better than this, and so did I.
Once there, I immediately felt better as I went to work, fixing myself a cup of herbal tea and throwing together a frittata that I’d be able to eat on all week. I was used to having only enough time to grab an apple in the mornings on my way out the door, so taking the time to cook something yummy was an act of self-care. The fact that I was the only one I was cooking for and could care for myself all week with one hour spent in the kitchen felt like an added bonus.
While the frittata was in the oven, I made a shopping list and looked up baby names online, daydreaming about the day he or she would finally get here. I’d just sat down to eat when a loud pounding on the door startled me so badly I almost fell out of my chair.
“What in the world?” I muttered, jumping to my feet. I approached the door with caution. Who could be here, knocking so loudly? I didn’t get a lot of visitors. Ashlynn sometimes did, but she wasn’t home.
Leaning to peep out the hole, my jaw dropped when I saw Theo standing there expectantly.
Shit.
I looked down at the tee I was wearing, plucking it out from my body to make sure it didn’t show the fullness of my breasts or the soft roundness of my abdomen. What was he doing here?
For a second I contemplated not answering and holding my breath until he went away, but the truth was, I wanted to see him. Just the sight of him through the peephole had my heart racing and my pussy clenching with need.
Swallowing hard because my throat felt like it was suddenly full of cotton balls, I flipped the lock and slowly pulled the door open, leaving the screen shut and folding my arms over my chest.
My entire body flushed with heat, and I swore he was staring into my soul. I knew it was just because the pregnancy was making me feel extra vulnerable.