Don't Refuse Me, Daddy

Chapter 4 Tintin

Perhaps the fortune teller’s reading had been accurate, because that very night, I witnessed Tyrone with another woman—making love.

Because of the little adventure that afternoon, I got home much later than usual. The sky had already darkened, and I could hear Tintin barking in the backyard.

Tintin was our dog, an adorable Labrador.

I figured it was hungry, so I grabbed its food and headed to the yard. But when I got there, it wasn't in his doghouse.

I circled the backyard, calling its name, but there was no sign of it. The gate to the yard was ajar. Tintin wasn't usually one to wander off; it liked its freedom but was a bit timid, so we never kept it leashed, just made sure the gate stayed locked to prevent any escapes.

Realizing it had somehow gotten out, panic rose in my chest. My first instinct was to find the one person I trusted most.

Tyrone had to be home. I raced upstairs and swung open his bedroom door without a second thought.

"Tyrone, Tintin is missing!"

Only then did I register the scene in front of me. Tyrone was standing with his back to me, shirtless, his arms wrapped around a woman who was just as bare. My face burned with embarrassment as I realized what I'd interrupted.

Tyrone pulled back, flustered, reaching down to grab his shirt from the floor. The woman didn't seem fazed at all; she just leaned against the bed, her arms crossed as she studied me with a smirk.

"You should knock first," she said dryly.

"Sorry."

I mumbled, backing out, intending to shut the door, but Tyrone was already coming out.

"I'll go look for him," he said firmly.

"I can go on my own," I replied quickly. It felt wrong to have him leave that woman like this just to help me look for the dog.

He didn't respond, just headed downstairs, and I followed close behind. I heard the woman scoff, but I was too worried to look back.

Tyrone grabbed a flashlight and headed out to the backyard, inspecting the ground. It didn't take long for him to confirm that no one had broken in; Tintin must have wandered off on its own.

"It probably hasn't gone far," he assured me. "I heard some barking earlier, but I was... busy, so I didn't check on it right away."

With the flashlight in hand and Tintin's leash draped over his shoulder, Tyrone strode out. His long strides meant I had to jog to keep up.

After a few minutes, I suggested we split up and meet at the intersection ahead. Tyrone agreed but reminded me to call him if I saw anything.

I took the path Tintin liked best, softly calling its name as I scanned every shadowy corner. The streetlights cast faint glows, but the darkness made it hard to see.

A car passed by slowly, and its headlights swept over a patch of grass near the curb. There, huddled on the ground, was a familiar yellow shape. I spotted Tintin, crouching low, looking frightened but probably unharmed.

"I found it!" I shouted, waving to Tyrone across the street before running over to Tintin.

It was trembling, but otherwise fine. I scooped it into my arms, whispering reassurances, until Tyrone joined us and attached the leash to its collar.

As I stood up, a sharp pain shot through my left ankle. I must have twisted it while running, and now the pain hit me after I relaxed.

Noticing my limp, Tyrone crouched down, motioning for me to climb onto his back. I hesitated, trying to avoid physical contact as I had been doing lately.

"Hurry up, or I'll just carry you over my shoulder."

That brought back memories. When I was little, Tyrone would haul me back home like that whenever I ran off or tried to "leave". He'd throw me over his shoulder, and the pressure would dig into my stomach, making my head swim. It was a punishment that always worked.

"Alright," I agreed, reluctantly climbing onto his back. I tried to keep my chest from pressing against his broad, muscular back, but it was impossible. As he held me up by my legs, I prayed he wouldn't notice the dampness of my underwear. "But I'm not a little kid anymore."

"I know," he said, adjusting his grip as if I weighed nothing. "But you're still light."

'No, you know nothing,' I thought, staring at the back of his head. With me on his back and Tintin on the leash, he started the slow walk home. To break the silence, I forced myself to make small talk.

"Sorry for interrupting your date."

"Her name's Lisa. I met her while walking Tintin," Tyrone replied softly, his voice low and rich. "I'm sorry for not telling you I was bringing her over. If you don't like her, I can..."

"No, don't apologize. You have your own life. As long as you're happy, it's fine."

He paused for a moment, then continued, "Oh, and the backyard gate... I think it might've been left open when I brought Lisa in. She wanted to see Tintin. I must have forgotten to close it."

Hearing the regret in his voice, I tried to ease his guilt. "It's okay. Tintin's safe, and that's what matters."

When we returned, Lisa had dressed and was sitting stiffly on the couch, arms crossed, casting Tyrone a displeased look. Sensing the tension in the room, I slipped off Tyrone's back, holding tightly to Tintin's leash and attempting to leave.

"Where are you going?" Tyrone called after me. "Watch your ankle."

"Just giving Tintin a bath," I replied, heading off quickly.

Being left alone naked by her boyfriend for a dog—it wasn't hard to understand why Lisa's mood soured. Anyone would be upset in her shoes.

In the bathroom, I lathered Tintin up, watching him stand there, covered in bubbles, oblivious to everything that had just happened. In this whole mess, it seemed the only casualties were my twisted ankle... and Lisa's pride.

I sighed. After all that, the words I'd finally resolved to tell Tyrone felt even harder to say.