Daddy's Wet Little Secret

CHAPTER ONE RAIN’S POV I clocked eighteen two years ago. That should have felt like freedom. Instead, it felt like being shoved out of a moving car and told to land gracefully. I had officially left the orphanage then, because that was the rule. Eighteen and out. No matter that I had been dumped there when I was two years old with nothing but a faded blanket and a name nobody bothered to explain. No matter that the orphanage had been the only place I knew, even when it was hard, even when it was lonely, even when it taught me early that nobody was coming to save me. I thought surviving on my own would be easier than staying where I was never really wanted. I was wrong. It had been hell. Real hell. The kind where you smile through hunger because crying burns too much energy. The kind where bills stare at you like insults. The kind where you stand outside food shops pretending you are just thinking when really you are calculating whether bread is more important than soap. I had promised myself that once I left the orphanage, I would start college. That promise had laughed in my face for two straight years. I couldn’t even properly feed myself, let alone pay school fees. By last Friday, I had broken. I called Matron Celestine. The only person in this world who had ever looked at me like I was not some extra body taking up space. She picked on the third ring. “Rain?” The second I heard her voice, I burst into tears. “Matron,” I choked out. “I’m tired.” There was a pause. “What happened?” “Everything,” I said, crying harder. “Everything is happening. I can’t keep up. I can’t pay rent, I can’t feed properly, I can’t even start school, and I know I said I would manage but I can’t. I really can’t.” She was quiet for a few seconds, and that almost made me cry more. Then she said, in that steady voice of hers, “Enough crying first.” I sniffed. “That is not helpful.” “It is,” she said. “You cannot solve anything while sounding like a broken tap.” Despite myself, I laughed through the tears. “That’s better,” she said. “Now listen to me, child. Let me see what I can do.” “I’m suffocating, Matron.” “I heard you the first time.” “I’m serious.” “And I am serious too. I will get back to you.” She ended the call after making me promise to eat something, and I had stared at my phone for a long time after that, feeling stupid for crying and even more stupid for hoping. Then she got back to me. I was in my tiny room when the message came in. I read it once. Then twice. Then a third time because surely my eyes had lost their minds. *Rain, I hope this message finds you well. I’m texting to inform you that the Lord in his infinite mercy has heard your prayers. A good samaritan has agreed to be your legal guardian and take care of every of your needs, including your college fee. Once you see this message, pack your things and come over and prepare to move in with him.* I just stared. Then I cried. Not cute tears either. Ugly, shaking, grateful tears. I pressed my rosary to my lips over and over, kissing it, whispering, “Thank you, Jesus. Thank you, Jesus. Thank you, Jesus.” For once in my life, something good had chosen me. I packed so fast I nearly broke the zipper on my duffel bag. By the time I got to the orphanage, my heart was beating so hard it made me feel lightheaded. Matron Celestine was waiting in her office. The moment I saw her, I nearly cried again. She adjusted her glasses and looked at me. “If you start wailing in this office, I will send you back outside.” I laughed and rushed to hug her anyway. She let out a soft grunt when my arms went around her. “You have become too big for these dramatic attacks.” “I missed you.” “You missed help,” she corrected. I pulled back with a grin. “That too.” Her mouth twitched, but I saw the affection there. I looked around the office I had entered a thousand times growing up. “So where is he?” “He had to leave after signing the legal guardian documents,” she said. “Important meeting.” I blinked. “He signed already?” “Yes.” “For me?” She gave me a look. “Do you know any other Rain in this room?” I sat down because my legs suddenly felt weak. “This is real.” “It is.” I swallowed hard. “What kind of man does this for someone he doesn’t know?” Her expression shifted slightly. “A man who made a promise.” “A promise?” “That is not your concern right now.” That made me frown. “Matron—” “The driver is on the way,” she said, clearly ending that line of conversation. I knew that tone. It meant stop pushing. So I did. Mostly. “Is he old?” I asked. She looked at me over her glasses. “Why?” “Because I need to know if I’m about to start taking care of someone’s grandfather.” That made her laugh properly. It startled me. Matron Celestine didn’t laugh like that often. “Go and sit properly,” she said. “You will know soon enough.” I leaned forward. “At least tell me if he’s nice.” She gave me one of those looks adults give when they know more than they want to say. “He is… complicated.” That made me nervous. “Complicated how?” “You ask too many questions.” “That means the answer is bad.” “It means,” she said firmly, “that you should be grateful.” I shut up after that. When the black SUV finally pulled in, my stomach flipped. This was really happening. I hugged Matron Celestine one last time before leaving, and this time she held me a little longer than usual. “Be careful with your heart,” she said quietly. I pulled back. “What does that mean?” She shook her head. “It means say your prayers, mind yourself, and stop asking me twenty questions per minute.” I smiled. “I’ll miss you too.” She touched my cheek briefly. “Go.” The driver took my duffel bag and opened the back door for me. During the ride, I kept rehearsing what I would say to this mysterious good man. Thank you for helping me. Thank you for not letting me drown. I will not be a burden. I can be useful. I can cook a little. Well, I can only boil rice and ramyeon but I can do my best in other delicacies. I clean very well. If you need company, I can talk. If you need quiet, I can disappear. In my head, he was old. Not weak, just old. Maybe lonely. Maybe rich and tired and kind in that distant way some people are when they’ve already lived enough life and want to do one decent thing before they die. Maybe he needed a child in the house. Maybe he wanted someone to care whether he had taken his medication. Maybe he simply had a good heart. Whatever it was, I was ready to be grateful for the rest of my life. The SUV drove through a massive estate, past gates that looked more expensive than any building I had ever slept in, and finally rolled to a stop in front of a huge mansion. I clutched my rosary so tightly it pressed into my palm. “Oh my God,” I whispered. The driver got out, took my duffel bag, and led me inside. The place was so grand it made me instantly aware of every cheap thing I owned. I tried not to look too overwhelmed. The driver gestured toward a seat. “Please sit. Mr Vale will be with you shortly.” Mr Vale. I nodded slowly. “Mr Vale.” The name sounded elegant. Powerful too. I sat down carefully and folded my hands in my lap so I wouldn’t start touching things that probably cost more than my entire existence. A few minutes passed. Then I heard it. A voice from the top of the stairs. Smooth. Deep. Controlled. “Has she arrived?” I got to my feet immediately. And froze. Because the man coming down the stairs was not old. Not even close. He looked like sin in a black shirt with the first five buttons undone, revealing ink over hard skin. His hair was slicked back. A pair of glasses sat low on his nose in the most unfair way I had ever seen in my life. He was beautiful. Not pretty. Not handsome. Dangerously, stupidly, devastatingly beautiful. The most deliciously-looking man I've ever seen. My mouth parted before I could stop it. “Wow,” I whispered.