I never did feel good about what happened to Jocelyn. What ended up becoming of her is not my fault though, because disobedient children always did leave a sour taste in my mouth, and she knew that.
Maybe things shouldn’t have ended the way they did, but what’s done is done and I don’t have the will or the want to start over with her again.
The boys were a fucking waste—I never cared much for either of them. Jocelyn on the other hand; man, was she special. The unadulterated embodiment of everything I ever wanted and needed, and she did a damn fine job of taking care of her wifely duties until those little fuckers got inside her head.
It’s alright though, because they got what they deserved, and in a way, so did she. Her entire purpose for even being allowed above ground as long as I let her was to give me children. She only gave me one, but that’s better than what Laura did, giving me three, two of which were fucking useless.
But as I lie here on my lawn chair watching little Darby running around picking wildflowers, her pigtails bouncing in excitement each time she finds a new one, I can’t help but think that we did alright.
She’s about five now, which is almost as long as Joce has been in the oubliette. After I delivered the baby from her womb, I tossed her down in the fucking ground where she belonged for disobeying me one too many times.
It’s a damn shame it had to come to this because there are nights where I’ll admit that I miss feeling her body next to mine on our bed. Hell, there are even some nights, after I put Darby to bed, that I go into my room and jerk off thinking about the way her mouth felt on my dick.
Part of the reason I get hard is because I miss Joce’s touch, but the other part is because I know that Darby will be just as good as her Momma when the time comes and it’s something I can’t wait to fucking experience.
“Don’t get too close to the well! I told you about that!” I call out to her when she starts picking wildflowers at the base of it.
That little girl is full of spunk and curiosity, but unlike her Momma, she listens to me. I know with time that will go away, because all children go through a stage of defiance, but I hope she’ll learn to love me the way that Joce did.
The more I think about things, the more I have to force myself to keep my hands off of her. Darby isn’t ready for me yet, and I don’t want her to be afraid of me—not when she’s supposed to love me.
Maybe I’ll bring Joce up for a family day soon. It’ll be easier for Darby if she sees how a daughter is supposed to love her Daddy, so she’ll be ready when it’s her turn to try.
Getting to my feet, I walk over to my baby and pick her up off the grass causing her to squeal happily. She loves the way my beard feels against her chubby cheeks—it always makes her laugh like this.
“Why don’t you go inside and put those flowers in a vase? I’ll be in shortly. I’m just gonna have a quick talk with your Momma, okay?” I say to her, gently kissing her cheek.
She squeals again and nods, kicking her feet so that I know she wants to get down, then turns and runs back toward the house.
I watch her, my hands on my hips, and sigh. Yeah; things would be a hell of a lot easier on her, if Jocelyn were up here with us.