Their Little Girl

CHAPTER THREE

Because I was older when they got married, Mark never adopted me, so

legally, unlike my mother, he didn’t have any obligation or responsibility

for my well-being.

My mind raced for days trying to figure out a way to convince him that

I wouldn’t be a burden, that I could be useful around the house, cooking,

cleaning, and taking care of him.

Not knowing what else to do, I finally broke down one day and began

begging him, telling him I’d do anything if he’d just let me stay...

“Honestly, Erica? Do you really think so little of me?” my stepfather

asked as I sobbed hysterically, sounding completely affronted by my

desperate pleas for him not to send me to my mother.

“I wasn’t... I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just – I couldn’t imagine you

wanting me to stay after the way my mother treated you,” I cried, hoping he

wouldn’t be upset.

His eyes raked over me a moment before he held out his arms, ready to

wrap me in his strong embrace. Without hesitation, I melted into his touch,

basking in the warmth of human contact, feeling loved and cherished –

something that I’d been missing for so long.

“Of course you can stay, sweetie. You didn’t even have to ask,” he

whispered, his velvet voice making my skin prickle with awareness as he

pulled me closer.

I could hardly remember the last time someone had touched me much

less hugged me.

“I needed that,” I replied, my rough voice teetering somewhere

between a laugh and sob.

Once I’d managed to step a few feet back, my gaze traveled up to his

face, searching for some indication that he realized the gravity of what he’d

just given me, the weight that had been lifted from my tiny frame.