"It's okay, princess. Come to daddy."
**
My dad and I have always been best friends.
My mum left us for another guy when I was young, and since then it's just been dad and I. We've always been the best team. Comrades. We've never been apart.
School was quite tough for me. Having no mother, kids made fun. My dad found out and waited at the school gates every day without fail, daring kids to torment me with a look that could kill.
I love my old man.
My first boyfriend, who had attempted to rape me after being told "no", quickly learned not to mess with my dad's little girl.
I'd scratched Richard's face as I'd squirmed out his reach, and he'd hit me in retaliation.
I escaped, just, and when I collapsed in to my hallway, my dad had rushed to my aid, asking me what the "bastard" had done.
I haven't seen Richard since. I heard his parents moved out of town.
My dad is big and strong. He's muscular, with sleeve tattoos and chiseled features. He works out.
His hands are huge, and hard working. He's a carpenter, so his hands are always rough. I coat them in hand lotion, much to his disapproval, in an attempt to save them.
**
Now, at nineteen, I'm ready to move away for Uni.
My dad looks at me, forlorn.
"Take care of yourself up there, princess. Don't let no one do you wrong, you hear me? You ever need me, I'm a phone call away." He says, gruff. I smile at him, put my hand to his cheek.
"Thanks, daddy. I'll be fine."
With a kiss on his cheek, I grab my back pack and close the front door, ready for my adventure!
I've been at my campus for nearly a month now. Classes are good. Coursework is hard, and there's far too much of it. I have friends, but they're all party animals and have drunken sex most nights.
I'm not in to that scene, especially after Richard, so when they're out drinking, I'm knuckling down with assignments or calling my dad.
I'm in the middle of one of these calls when Jessie falls in to the dorm room, sozzled, half naked, and with some boy hanging off her arm. They're really loud, laughing, swearing, snogging.
I shake my head and apologize to my dad.
I'm absorbed in my phone call, so don't notice the two of them getting on Jessie's bed.
It's not until the bed starts squeaking and they're both grunting I realize I'm sitting in the middle of a sex session!
I storm out the room in disgust, and my dad is outraged with the lack of common courtesy and teaching here. He asks me if I've been participating in any of these sordid encounters.
"No, daddy! I can't stand the way my roommates act! I like studying here, but the drunk one-night stands are doing my head in. There's not one night when one of the girls isn't taking a guy back to our room or doesn't come back to sleep. I wish I could move dorms."
My dad is silent for a minute.
"It's the weekend, come back home for a few days." He says, sternly.
I contemplate this. I only have one class tomorrow morning, I won't miss much. I agree and walk out the building, not even bothering to pack a bag.
**
I arrive home. I don't know what time it is.
Dad opens the door and hugs me tight.
"I've missed you, princess." He says.
"Missed you too, dad." I smile.
"Where are your clothes?" He asks.
I shrug. "I wasn't about to go back in that room with them pair."
He considers this.
"I have some old clothes you can borrow." He answers, gesturing for me to follow him to his room.
I've only been in dad's room a handful of times. It's large, with a hand-carved king bed in the center. I remember dad telling me he'd built it as a gift for mum. I touch the wooden framework. Little flowers dance along it's edge, beautifully carved. I admire my father's handiwork.
I don't notice he's staring at me.
"You like it?" He asks, shyly.
I nod. "It's beautiful. Mum doesn't know how lucky she was to have you, daddy. I hate her for what she did to you." My brow creases as I remember back to my childhood, the grief my father went through when the woman he loved announced she didn't love him and wanted to be with the guy who had landscaped our garden.
"You know what, though, daddy? She didn't deserve you. That woman was a fool to let you go." I add, fingering the floral carvings on the bed.
I hadn't realized I'd moved until my hand touched something soft and rough. My dad's hand.
He hasn't said anything, instead he's standing stock still, looking at me.
"I love you, daddy." I whisper, folding myself in to his large chest, hugging him close.
His hands wrap around me, and I feel safe. So safe. My dad's cologne always calms me down, and I inhale his scent, committing it to memory.
"If you were mine, I'd never let you go." I whisper to myself. Then I wonder why I'm thinking this way, and how I could say that out loud.
Worse, he's heard me.
"Gabbie, I'm your dad. I love you, princess, but you shouldn't be talking like this. It's wrong." He chastises softly.
I nod, and for some strange reason, tears start stinging my eyes. I wipe my face in to his shirt so he doesn't see.
"Princess? What's wrong? Are you okay? I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you!" Daddy says, obviously distressed at my sudden sobbing.
He lifts my chin up so I'm looking at him, and I cry harder.
"Gabbie..."
"I'm s... so... sorry, daddy. I, I don't know w... what's wrong with me!" I wipe my eyes with my arm.
My dad looks worried, his eyebrows creased with concern.
I touch the crease with my forefinger to make him relax.
I smile gently at my dad, and before I can make sense of what I'm doing, my lips touch his. Not in a daughter-father way, but in a woman-man way.
I feel my father tense and I pull away from him, ashamed.
"I'm sorry, daddy. I know I shouldn't have done that."
My dad sits on the edge of his bed, looking at me.
"It's okay, princess. Come to daddy." He says, patting the space beside him.
I ignore the space, and instead sit on his lap, curling myself in to him.
"You're daddy's girl. It's okay. I'm not upset or anything, but we need to talk about this, honey. How long have you had... conflicting feelings... towards me?"
"Since I was twelve." I answer, matter-of-fact.
I feel him tense again.
"... That long? You answered that so easily, princess. Explain how you know, please."
"Uh, I was playing outside with Margaret, and she said she wanted a drink. I came in to find us some juice. You weren't around, which was odd, as normally you watched us like a hawk to make sure we stayed safe by the pool. So, I took Margaret her drink, then came to find you. I got to the top of the stairs, and I could hear water running. I was naive, so I walked towards the noise. I opened the bathroom door, and there you were, naked. The first man I ever saw. The shower curtain wasn't closed properly, so I could see everything. I know now that I should have left, but I was mesmerized by your strong muscles, your tattoos, your skin. And now I think back, I must have liked you cock, too, because I stared at it for the longest time. I didn't leave the bathroom until you turned the shower off. I scarpered out of the bathroom and down the stairs, back to Margaret." I'm looking at my hands, red-faced.
My dad sits silent, absorbing my confession like a Priest. I half expect him to kick me out of his room, or tell me to repeat Hail Mary three hundred times to cleanse myself, but instead he just holds me, silent, until I have to look at him.
His face is torn. I shouldn't have looked. My heart is filled with guilt for what I've done to my dad. It's the first time in my life, other than when mum left, that I've ever seen such torment on my father's face. I raise my hand to comfort him, then lower it again, realizing that this may upset him further.
I unfurl myself from him and stand, preparing to leave.
My dad grabs my wrist softly.
"Don't." He looks at me, pleading.
"Don't leave, princess."
I stand facing him, his hand still holding my wrist.
