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He laughed without humor, the sound bitter. “Who I was,” he spat. “It almost got people killed. Got you hurt. Your club burned down.” He hugged himself as if trying to staunch his own bleeding heart. “I can’t…I can’t be like that ever again.”
My ribs felt bruised by the weight of his shame. “Matty, look at me.” I waited until his gaze, wary and trembling, locked with mine. “What happened wasn’t because you’re a Little. It happened because your godfather is a greedy bastard who was stealing from you. None of this is your fault.”
He swallowed, blinking rapidly against tears. “But if I hadn’t…” His voice trailed off. “If I hadn’t been so needy, so childish, maybe I could’ve protected myself. Maybe I wouldn’t have been so easy to manipulate.”
My poor baby. So much guilt. “Come here,” I said, opening my arms.
He shook his head, stepping back. “I need to be stronger.”
“You’re the strongest person I know,” I told him, voice firm. “It takes more courage to be vulnerable than to put on a mask.”
“You don’t understand.” His voice cracked like glass. “When he had me…he called my Little side disgusting. Said it was pathetic.” He spat the last word as if it burned in his mouth. “And I have to believe him.”
A flash of rage flared in me. “That’s what abusers do, Matty. They twist the things you love about yourself until you hate them.” My hand struck the wall softly—but hard enough for him to flinch. I exhaled, ashamed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
He stared at me, wounded. “What if he’s right? What kind of grown man needs dinosaur pajamas and stuffed animals—”
“The kind who survived hell and found comfort where he could,” I said, stepping forward. “The kind who’s brave enough to show his whole self in a world that tells men to hide.” I paused, voice dropping to a whisper. “The kind I love.”
Matty’s head snapped up, eyes wide and glassy. “What did you say?”
My throat tightened. I hadn’t planned to say it now, not like this, but the words tumbled out anyway. “I love you. Not just as your Daddy or your husband on paper—I loveyou, Matty. All of you.”
For a moment, he didn’t move. Then tears spilled down his cheeks. “But why? I’m such a mess.”
“Because you’re kind,” I said, stepping even closer. I reached out, brushing a tear from his cheek. “Because you're brave. You gave up your safety to save strangers at the barbecue. Because you're cute. You stick your tongue out when you color. You’re clever and strong in ways you don’t even see.”
A small, broken sound escaped him. “I don’t feel strong right now.”
“You don’t have to be right now,” I whispered. “I’ll be strong for us both. I’ll hold you when you can’t stand. I’ll love every part of you—adult and Little.”
His shoulders trembled, the rigid control he’d maintained since the rescue finally cracking. He took a hesitant step forward, then another, until he collapsed into my arms, knees buckling.
I caught him, cradling him gently, mindful of his injured back. His whole body shook with sobs, face buried in my chest, as the fear and trauma he’d bottled up poured out.
“That’s it,” I murmured, stroking his hair. “Let it out, little one. I’ve got you.”
“I was so scared,” he gasped. “He said nobody would come. That nobody wanted me.”
“He lied,” I said, voice fierce. “I will always come for you, Matty. You're mine.”
I guided him back to the couch and settled him into my lap, wrapping my arms around him. He curled in tightly, small and fragile against me, tears soaking my shirt.
“I don’t want to be scared anymore,” he whispered once his sobs quieted to hiccups. He looked up at me, eyes red-rimmed but clearer than they’d been all morning. “I keep hearing his voice...telling me I’m weak for needing…” He trailed off, too ashamed to say the words.
“For needing your Little space?” I finished softly. “There’s nothing weak about finding comfort. The world is hard enough without denying yourself what brings you peace.” I paused. "It's like riding my bike. Brings me peace." I chuckled. "They don't call me Bear just because of my size, you know. Daisy said I'm like a bear with a sore head when I don't get to ride."
He was quiet for a long moment, his fingers absently playing with the hem of my shirt. "When I was there, all I could think about was you. About coming home to you." His voice dropped to a whisper. "About being your little one again."
My throat tightened with emotion. "You can always be my baby boy. Whenever you want, however you want."
"Even after everything?" he asked, vulnerability written across his face.
"Especially after everything," I assured him. "Nothing has changed how I feel about you. If anything, I love you more for surviving."
Matty's eyes widened at my words, a flicker of hope replacing some of the shadows. "You really meant it? You...love me?"
"With everything I am," I said simply.