Father Mine: Zsadist and Bella's Story Read Free

awareness had come in the last week or so. And changed everything.
     
    “He won’t hold her, Phury. He won’t even pick her up.”
     
    “Are you serious?”
     
    Bella’s tears made her daughter’s face wavy. “Damn it, when is this post-partum depression going to lift? I well up at almost nothing.”
     
    “Wait, not even once? He hasn’t gotten her out of the crib or—”
     
    “He won’t touch her. Crap, will you hand me a frickin’ tissue.” When the Kleenex box got in range, she snapped one free and pressed it to her eyes. “I’m such a mess. All I can think about is Nalla going through her whole life wondering why her father doesn’t love her.” She cursed softly as more tears came. “Okay, this is ridiculous.”
     
    “It’s not ridiculous,” he said. “It’s really not.”
     
    Phury knelt down, keeping the tissues front and center. Absurdly, Bella noticed that the box had the picture of an alley of leafy trees with a lovely dirt road stretching off into the distance. On either side, flowering bushes with magenta blooms made the maples look like they were wearing tulle ballet skirts.
     
    She imagined walking down the dirt road . . . to a place that was far better than where she was now.
     
    She took another tissue. “The thing is, I grew up without a father, but at least I had Rehvenge. I can’t imagine what it would be like to have a dad who was alive but dead to you.” With a little cooing sound, Nalla yawned wide and snuffled, rubbing her face with the back of her fist. “Look at her. She’s so innocent. And she responds to love so well . . . I mean . . . Oh, for God’s sake, I’m going to buy stock in Kleenex.”
     
    With a disgusted noise she flipped another tissue free. To avoid looking at Phury as she blotted, she let her eyes wander around the cheery room that had been a walk-in closet before the birth. Now it was all about the young, all about family, with the pine rocker Fritz had hand-made, and the matching dressing table, and the crib that was still festooned with multicolored bows.
     
    When her stare landed on the low-slung bookcase with all its big, flat books, she felt even worse. She and the other Brothers were the ones who read to Nalla, who settled the young on a lap and unfolded shiny covers and spoke rhyming words.
     
    It was never her father, even though Z had learned to read almost a year ago.
     
    “He doesn’t refer to her as his daughter. It’s my daughter. To him, she’s mine, not ours.”
     
    Phury made a disgusted sound. “FYI, I’m trying to resist the urge to pound him out right now.”
     
    “It’s not his fault. I mean, after all he went through . . . I should have expected this, I guess.” She cleared her throat. “I mean, this whole pregnancy thing wasn’t planned, and I wonder . . . maybe he resents me and regrets her?”
     
    “You’re his miracle. You know you are.”
     
    She took more tissues and shook her head. “But it’s not just me anymore. And I won’t raise her here if he can’t come to terms with the two of us. . . . I will leave him.”
     
    “Whoa, I think that’s a little premature—”
     
    “She’s beginning to recognize folks, Phury. She’s starting to understand she’s being shut out. And he’s had three months to get used to the idea. Over time, he’s gotten worse, not better.”
     
    As Phury cursed, she lifted her eyes to the brilliant yellow stare of her hellren ’s twin. God, that citrine color was what shone out of her daughter’s face as well, so there was no looking at Nalla without thinking of her father. And yet . . .
     
    “Seriously,” she said, “what’s this all going to be like a year from now? There is nothing more lonely than sleeping next to someone you’re missing as if they were gone. Or having that as a father.”
     
    Nalla reached up with her fat hand and grabbed onto one of the tissues.
     
    “I didn’t know you were here.”
     
    Bella’s eyes shot to the doorway.