The Daddy and The Dom - Julia Sykes Page 0,27
have to talk about this now, but if you want to understand, it would help if I knew more about your upbringing.”
“There’s not much to talk about,” I hedged.
A small frown tugged at his lips. “Don’t hide from me,” he warned. “I know your father never responded to your email about taking time off from college. I know you didn’t message your mother at all. Are you estranged from your parents?”
I tried to turn my face away, but his fingers tightened in my hair, trapping me beneath his incisive gaze.
“My dad loves me.” Even I could hear how defensive I sounded. “He just has high expectations. He wants me to succeed.”
“He puts a lot of pressure on you,” Marco read the truth in my words. “You’re obviously intelligent and hardworking. You wouldn’t have been accepted at Harvard, otherwise. Does your father tell you he’s proud of you?”
“No,” I whispered. “Not really.” It was expected that I would work hard and do well, so there was no need for positive reinforcement when I succeeded. There was only a need for censure when I failed.
“And what about your mother?”
“We don’t really talk.”
“Why not?” he pressed, not willing to let me stop there.
My eyes stung. “Well, my parents divorced when I was eight. My mother moved to Chicago for her career, and she decided it was best for me to stay with Dad. She works crazy hours.” A lump formed in my throat, but I continued. “Then, she met someone new. She got remarried and started a new family in Chicago. She forgot about me in Savannah.”
All I’d wanted for as long as I could remember was to have a family of my own. I dreamed about getting married and having babies. I longed to have people in my life I could love unconditionally. People who would love me in return.
I didn’t dare voice that dream aloud to my father or my friends. It was expected that I would go to a prestigious college and get more than my MRS. Degree. My father would be appalled if he knew that I wanted to meet a man who would start a family with me.
Marco brushed a tear from my cheek. “You want someone to take care of you. Someone who’s proud of you for who you are, not what they want you to be. And that’s okay.”
“Is it?” I asked desperately. “I’ve lived my whole life trying to impress my dad. He’d be so ashamed if he knew all I really want is to get married and have babies. All I want is to stay at home and raise my children.”
“You don’t have to worry about what your father thinks,” he said firmly. “What he wants you to be doesn’t matter. What matters is what will make you happy. This is your life, Ashlyn. Not his. If you never want to go back to school, that’s okay. Know that whatever you choose, I’ll be proud of you. I’ll take care of you, no matter what.”
My tears spilled over his fingers, falling faster than he could wipe them away. No one had ever told me they were proud of me, and certainly not unconditionally. It was why I didn’t trust people easily; if I let myself be open and vulnerable for even a second, I might get hurt.
“I’ve always felt like I have to be perfect in everything I do, or my dad would be disappointed in me,” I admitted.
“I think you’re perfect. Just the way you are.”
He lifted me up in his arms, holding me close while I cried cathartic tears. I’d never told anyone my deepest secrets before. I’d never trusted anyone like I was trusting Marco. Not even Joseph, even though I’d wanted to open up to him.
“Do you understand now, babygirl?” he asked when my tears subsided. “Does the way you feel about me make sense?”
“Yes,” I said, my voice still thick from crying. “But what about you? Why do you like this?”
All I could see was my benefit from this dynamic. Marco took care of me, and I didn’t have to do anything to earn his affection.
But what did he get out of taking on that responsibility?
His jaw firmed, but he continued to cuddle me close. “I need someone to take care of. I need to feel needed, necessary,” he admitted. “I don’t have a great relationship with my father, either. Joseph is my only family now.”
“What about your mom?” I asked softly, almost afraid to push him.
His eyes shuttered.