Page 28 of Daddy's Little 1

“What’s inside?” Roman asks.

“He left a note, which I already threw away, but it’s pretty obvious. It’s my stuff from his house. My own dad broke up with me. I even wrote him a letter, hoping he’d at least read it,” I say miserably, handing it to Roman.

I watch as he reads it. Every word is burned into my mind.

Dad,

I’m sorry. So sorry I hurt you. I never meant for you to find out about Roman and me the way you did. You didn’t deserve that.

But I didn’t deserve to lose you for choosing him. You think he used me. He didn’t. I tried to think of him less, tried not to fall in love with him, but it was impossible.

I know what I feel for him more than anyone. More than you. More than Roman. But unlike you, I’m not scared. In fact, I’ve never felt safer giving my heart to someone because Roman handles it with such care. Because he loves me too, Dad.

I won’t apologize to you for the way I feel about him. Those feelings are mine, and I chose them. I chose Roman. I’ll choose him every day for the rest of my life. But that shouldn’t mean I don’t get to have you in my life too. Neither of you can replace the other.

You mean everything to me. You’re my dad—such a small word that holds so much love and support that no one can ever replace.

You promised you’d never hurt me, but you did. You hurt me when you hurt Roman. You said you’d only ever give your blessing to someone I truly loved. That someone is Roman, Dad.

I hope that one day, you’ll see that what we have is the real thing, something that only comes along once in a lifetime if you’re lucky. I know you understand better than anyone how precious that kind of love is and how important it is to hold onto it with every breath.

So, please don’t continue to make me choose when we could be the family I’ve always wanted.

Your daughter.

Your Bumble.

Always.

Brenna.

Roman’s eyes are glossy when he finally looks up at me. He grabs my hand, smoothing his thumb over my skin. “Brenna, I—” His voice cracks, and he shakes his head.

I know what I’m about to say, what I’m about to ask him, is wrong. It’s so wrong. But I’m looking for him to save me. To make this situation with my dad better. To do something with this ball of pain consuming me. So, I say, “I gave up my dad, Roman. We’ve been together for a month. What happens next?”

His caresses pause, and he tenses. “What do you mean?”

I’m being unfair. I know it, but I can’t seem to stop. I made a choice. I chose Roman, and I will never regret that, but Idoregret losing my dad, and I know the pain will eventually eat me alive. “I’m your baby girl, right? You take care of me?”

His silence is deafening. His jaw tics and his emerald eyes hold a vulnerability I’ve never seen before. “You’re still falling, aren’t you?Still deciding between your da and me. You’ll never actually land.”

I shake my head vehemently. “That’s not fair. I love you. Gave up so muchbecauseI love you!” I shout. Why am I shouting?

“Now, Brenna.” His tone is scolding.

“Don’t talk to me like a child,” I snap.

“Fine.” He crouches in front of me so I have to look at him. “I’ll talk to you like the woman you are. You made a choice. We both did. And we both lost something, but so did your da. He lost us.”

“But why does this have to be a one or the other situation?” I demand, tears streaming freely again. God, I’m so sick of the tears! “Please, Roman. I need you. I choose you. But I need him too. Talk to him. Do something…”

“Baby girl, calm down, we can—”

“You’re notlisteningto me,” I yell, surging to my feet and storming to my room.

I’m sorry the second my feet cross the threshold. I’m irrational. Overwrought. In pain.

Panic sets in when I hear the door close a few minutes later.