Page 16

TARAJI

T araji lies curled on Nikolai's chest, his arms wrapped tight around her. Moonlight slips through the blinds, painting silver stripes across their skin. The shower they shared earlier washed away the blood but not the memory of his protection, how it felt to be small in his embrace.

She traces a hesitant line on his skin, fingertip following the contour of his collarbone.

"Can I tell you something, Daddy?"

He kisses her hair, his thumb drawing gentle circles along her spine.

"Always, baby girl. You can tell me anything."

She swallows, her voice trembling with vulnerability.

"I've always had to be the strong one. Since I was a kid taking care of everyone else. There was never anyone to take care of me, not really. I got used to being the protector, the one who fixes things." Her words catch. "But sometimes I just want to be held. I want to be small. Safe. "

Her fingers tremble slightly against his skin. "I didn't have a normal childhood. The people who should have protected me... they sold me instead."

Nikolai's body tenses beneath her, but his touch remains gentle. She can feel his heartbeat quicken.

"You don't have to tell me more than you're ready to," he whispers.

"I want you to understand," she continues, her voice barely audible. "I was passed between men who... who used me. Trafficked. By the time I escaped at fifteen, I'd learned that depending on anyone meant getting hurt."

A tear slides down her cheek, landing on his chest. "I built my entire life around never needing anyone again. Never being vulnerable. I became fiercely independent because I had to."

Nikolai's arms tighten around her, protective yet careful not to make her feel trapped.

"I think that's why this—" she gestures between them, "—this little space happened.

Some therapist once told me that trauma can manifest in unexpected ways.

That sometimes the mind creates safe spaces it was denied.

" She looks up at him with glistening eyes.

"With you, I feel safe enough to be small again.

To reclaim something that was stolen from me. "

He squeezes her gently, giving her space to breathe.

"You don't have to be strong with me. Not unless you want to. Daddy's here for you now. You can be as little as you need."

Another tear slides down her cheek, but for the first time in years, it feels like release rather than weakness.

"Thank you, Daddy. I want to let go. With you."

He shifts her onto his lap, rocking her gently, his voice a warm promise against her ear.

"Then let go, baby girl. I'll catch you. Always."

She melts into him, allowing years of armor and exhaustion to dissolve. In his arms, she becomes small, cherished, and finally free. The impulse overtakes her, and she lifts her face to his, pressing her lips against his mouth in a kiss that speaks what words cannot .

Nikolai responds with equal hunger, then pulls back. "May I undress you, baby?" His fingers hover at the hem of her shirt, waiting.

She nods, breath quickening. "Yes, please."

He peels away her clothing with reverent hands, each new inch of exposed skin met with kisses and whispered praise. "Is this okay?" he asks as his fingers trace the curve of her breast. "And this?" as his lips follow the path of his hands.

"Yes," she breathes each time, surrendering to his touch, to the freedom of being cherished rather than strong.