Don't Baby Me (Age-Regression)

Chapter Twenty-Five

Owen

As it turns out, taking two minutes to use the bathroom was the end of the world. Ayla is sat in the corner of the living room, crying silent tears when I finally finish washing my hands.

Rushing over, I lift her into my arms and get her settled on my hip. With a small sniffle, she sticks her head in my neck.

I pace the length of the room as I rub her back in an effort to calm her. She was a very emotional six year old. I guess that's the same when she's in headspace.

"Daddy's here, little princess. It's okay." I mumble.

It would be truly nice for her to find some comfort in her caregivers. She's had small moments of trust, but nothing like the kind she places in me. Which is understandable. I've been her Daddy for almost eighteen years now.

"How about we have a little snack? Hmm? How does that sound?" She pulls back from my neck and I tap her nose.

It's slightly pink from crying, making her all that much cuter. She gives me that smile that I love so much and nods.

"What would you like?" Mae stands, ready to get her snack.

And my shy girl is back in her shell again. Biting the inside of my cheek to avoid saying something I shouldn't, I whisper and ask Ayla what she would like.

Theoretically, having this many caregivers should be a good thing. She would always have a set of eyes looking after her. Only if she would actually embrace that part of her. As her father, I do see her ever-so-slowly working towards it.

But that's not a change that comes overnight. It'll be a slow, gradual transition that a stranger might not notice. All that matters is I see it.

"Gummies, Daddy." Ayla whispers back in my ear.

"Sounds good to me." Not the healthiest. At least she's eating something.

"Can I put you down or do you want me to carry you?" It's a stupid question to ask when I already know the answer.

She points to me and rolls her eyes playfully. "Silly, Dada. I want you to carry me."

"Far be it for me to deny you. Let's go." Walking towards the kitchen, I enter the pantry and let her pick which fruit snacks she wants.

As I'm opening the pack for her, three knocks sound on the door. I swear to God if it's Iris at the door I'm going to flip. With the hand that's not holding Ayla, I rub the stress from my eyes.

As I walk back into the main room, I see everybody whispering amongst themselves. They seem jittery and concerned. Who the hell is at the door that's making them this nervous? I mean, tapping feet and bouncing knees type of nervous.

Otto answers the door to a man and woman, both wearing suits and carrying clipboards. My forehead wrinkles as I take in the scene in front of me.

"Hello, we're from the Little's Protection Agency. We're here to do our first check on Miss Ayla. Is it alright if we come in?" The woman introduces the pair.

"Sure. Come right in." Otto waves them in and right away their pens start scribbling on their clip boards as they observe the house.