Yes, daddy

You'll have to stay in your room

"Which would you rather go in- the basement or your room," I ask her and watch as she twists her hands in her lap with a pout on her face.

"neither," she says after ten minutes of thinking.

"Then where do you want to go?" I ask her 

"I want to stay with you, Daddy," she says and I smile.

"I know baby but I don't want my parents to meet you right now, okay?" i say and her lip quivers.

"wh-why," she says as her eyes begin to fill with tears that will soon escape her eyes.

"They don't really accept my 'lifestyle' and my sisters going to be there too and she's not really the uhh nicest person," I say hoping that she'll understand.

She doesn't.

She just bursts into tears and runs away from me and tries to run up the stairs but ends up tripping and hitting her head which just makes her cry even more. 

I walk over to her and pick her up, cradling her in my arms I walk into the kitchen and sit her on the counter. 

I make my way to the freezer and grab an icepack before walking back over to her and placing it on her head where she hit it, a bump is already forming. 

"shhhh, it's okay baby. This is why we don't run in the house" I tell her and she nods her head slightly. 

"i-it hurts" she manages to get out through the tears.

I pull her close to me, the ice pack still on her head, and slightly rub the back of her head, something my mom used to do to me when I was younger and crying. 

"How about we stay in Daddy's room? How does that sound?" I ask her.

she stops crying all the sudden and says "okay" as if nothing happened. 

Almost like she hadn't just run away from me because I had told her she couldn't be down here while my parents were over. 

"Can I go play now?" she asks me and I hesitantly nod my head and pick her up off the counter and place her on the floor where she instantly turns and walks slowly up the stairs.

I watch her until she disappears out of view.

I feel like a horrible Daddy.

The truth is that I've never done this before. 

I thought about it, fantasized about what it would feel like to have a little of my own. 

I just didn't expect to fine one and I think part of why I hadn't found one sooner was before I was so caught up in my 'wife' and what she wanted. She never would have accepted or adapted to my lifestyle and what I liked or how I wanted to live. 

But I loved her. 

I sigh and close my eyes before looking at the clock. six o'clock. My parents will be here in a hour and I really don't feel like cooking.

"CLAIRE!" I call out from the kitchen and a middle-aged white woman with white-blond hair comes running into the kitchen. 

"yes, sir?" Claire says respectfully.

"Could you possibly make dinner? I'm too tired to do it right now" I say and she nods her head, "of course," she says.