Guilt.

It was something I had fled from my entire life. Every time someone tried to make me feel guilty, I made it my mission to do the opposite of what they wanted. It was a defense mechanism, or perhaps a statement about my right to freedom. But now it didn't feel as simple. My first reaction wasn't to walk out and forget all about Tilia and her father; my first reaction wasn't selfish to the extent it used to be.

I wanted to find a way to fix this, even if I knew it was most likely a lost case already.

It struck me that I should have wondered why Matthews allowed me to watch his daughter if he knew what I had done in my past; how low I had sunken. The very reason why I entered his BDSM club to begin with was that I didn't think I could stay off the drugs on my own. In my imagination, I believed that the form of structure present in a D/s relationship would help me stay on the path I wanted to keep, so the risk of temptation remained high. I still thought of drugs as a way to escape all my problems, even if I knew that it wasn't the solver but a bit part of the problem.

No father in their right mind would entrust their daughter with me.

Tilia was silent, looking at her feet instead of me. My lack of answer had been confirmation enough. Sitting down on my knees, I did the only thing I could think of: I hugged her close. She didn't sob this time, and she didn't relax. Her body remained stiff, and everything I wanted to say remained locked up in my throat.

"Dinner's ready," Matthews called from downstairs.

Tilia stirred, but didn't make any effort to move away from me.

"Let's go down and eat something," I suggested.

"I'm not hungry."

As she said it, her stomach rumbled a little. However, I didn't want to push her.

"Let's go down to your daddy at least. He needs some company."

That seemed like a better suggestion because I could feel her nodding on my shoulder. Our hug ended and we made our way downstairs. Matthews had made the table in the dining area and was carrying the large pot of chili to the table.

"I hope you two are hungry because I made a lot of food."

I was thrown into another bout of confusion—not because of what he said, but because of his kindness. I had done nothing to deserve this. They shouldn't include me. It didn't matter that it was just a simple dinner; it was the gesture in itself.

Recalling the conversation with Lisa, I repeated to myself that I didn't want him to know. I would just say that I couldn't work with this, but I had no idea when I would find the right moment to voice it. This certainly wasn't it, even if I was bursting to say something to get rid of all the stress inside of me.

"Why don't you join us, Ethan."

Matthews words threw me out of my thoughts, and I realized that I was rooted to the floor in the center of the room. He was nodding at me to take the chair opposite of him. My feet started to move on their own, and this time I silently thanked them. I didn't want this situation to be even more awkward than it already was.

"Give me your plate, Tilia." Matthews said as I sat down.

"I'm not hungry."

Matthews seemed surprised—his eyebrows twitched and his smile vanished entirely. "Of course you are, honey."

"No."

Matthews looked at me, as if I would provide an answer. I did have one, but I had no idea how to express what happened mere minutes ago.

When I didn't reply he turned to his daughter again. "What's the matter? Did something happen?"

"Ethan is leaving."

Children were too honest sometimes. I didn't know how to react, or how to respond. I grew just as stiff in my seat as Tilia had been in my arms.

Matthews folded his napkin and placed it back on the table. "Give us a few minutes, Tilia. We'll be back." He pushed back his chair and rose. "Ethan."

I wished he would have given me a few more hours to prepare what I wanted to say, but I knew it was a futile wish. The moment was here, and I had to say something, anything. I went after him into a small library. The walls were covered with bookcases, and yet, the room was still littered with piles of books. I hadn't seen so many books in one place before.

Matthews closed the door behind me and sat down in one of the armchairs. It was clear he wanted me to sit down in the other one, but it felt wrong. I was cornered enough as it was.

"Have you changed your mind about babysitting?"

It was a simple enough question. Harmless. Right?

"Yes."

"Why?"

"I'm not ready for this, sir."

"Lisa will be sad to hear it, I'm sure."

I was glad he didn't bring up Tilia instead. It was  easier if he talked about Lisa, because I knew for a fact that she wouldn't be sad at all.

"Perhaps," I replied, not very eager to give away that she was the cause for quitting.

"Look, Ethan. I know you've been through some rough times in your life-"

"You know?" I interrupted. The words slipped past my lips before my mind caught up to what I was saying.

"Some of it, perhaps not all of it."

"What do you know?" This time I had to put some effort into talking. I didn't want to know what he knew, but if there was a chance that I could stay...No, it was just wrong of me. "Forget it. I don't want to know. Let me just quit."

"I know you dropped out of High School, and that you've been in and out of foster care. Am I correct?"

"Yes."

"I'm also guessing that you've been at St. Mary's center for treatment of some kind, since Lisa works there and she doesn't seem like just a normal friend of yours."

St. Mary's had several treatment programs, so even if he knew I had been there, he wouldn't know what for.

"Ethan, remember what I said. I want honesty."

"Or I could just quit."

"True, but Tilia hasn't been this happy at home since her mother left. When I saw you play in the snow I knew she had taken to you already. So, I don't want you to leave."

"You don't know me."

"Which is exactly why I want you to be honest with me. I want to make an informed decision."

"And what if I don't want to inform you?"

Matthews sighed and looked out through the window. "If you won't tell me what's bothering you, there's not much I can say."

Some part of me wanted to tell him, but another part wanted to run away and hide.

"I thought Lisa had told you, otherwise I would never have agreed to come here."

"So you don't want a better future for yourself?"

The question took me off guard. Of course I wanted a better future, who didn't?

"I do."

"Are you a danger to my child? You know you won't be left alone with her, because the maid will be here."

"Evelyn?" I recalled Tilia's reaction when she said the maid's name. She hadn't been happy at all.

"Yes, Tilia told you, I presume."

I nodded in reply.

"So, are you a danger?"

How did I reply to that? No, I didn't think I was a danger. I was unreliable, but I would never hurt Tilia intentionally. Unintentionally? Everyone could endanger others unintentionally. Was it a bigger risk with me? Definitely.

So, a moment of truth. I couldn't look at him, but I decided to be honest. I finally sat down in the chair, sinking back into the soft cushions.

"I'm unreliable."

"In what way?"

"I'm unstable."

"You mean your panic attacks?"

"Not only."

"Do you want to spend time with Tilia?"

Again, the question seemed to come from nowhere, even it was a completely reasonable one. I just hadn't expected it.

"She's adorable, so yes."

Matthews grew silent, staring out the window again. I knew he was thinking, but I couldn't phantom what went on in there.

"I'll drive you back tomorrow, then I'll think about this over the week."

I didn't reply, instead I sat there in silence, trying to figure out what he meant. I didn't deserve a chance, if that was what he was going to think about.

Honesty. He had asked me to be honest, and I should be. It was the only way to make him understand. I didn't want to tell him, but my secrets weren't worth much in relation to what Tilia was worth. She didn't need someone like me in her life, and Matthews should realize that.

"I was at St. Mary's for rehab."

I didn't dare to look at Matthews; I didn't want to see his reaction.

"Thank you for telling me." With that, Matthews rose from his chair and made it over to the door. Stopping, he turned around. "Let's go have some dinner."