Please Me Daddy (Gracie) novel Chapter 52

**Across Distant Skies Lies Hope Waiting To Be Found by Kade Rowan Flint 52**

**Good Cop, Bad Cop**

**Grace**

Belonging was a concept I had never truly grasped. Throughout my life, I felt like a ghost, drifting through spaces where I was never meant to be.

In the orphanage, I was that quiet child—an observer more than a participant. I would sit by the window, my gaze lost in the world outside, while the laughter and chaos of other children swirled around me like a distant storm. I didn’t laugh, didn’t cry, didn’t fight for attention like the others. I simply existed, a shadow among vibrant colors.

“She’s weird. Kids shouldn’t be that quiet. She just stares. What’s wrong with her?” Those words, spoken by a prospective parent, pierced through my solitude, echoing in the hollows of my heart. I felt their weight, the judgment that came with them, as if I was somehow less deserving of love and connection.

While other children were swept away into the warmth of loving arms, I remained by the door, watching them leave, my heart heavy with the knowledge that I was still alone.

And then they appeared.

My mother and father.

Their arrival was swift and decisive. They didn’t glance at the other children, didn’t hesitate. They simply chose me, as if they had known me all along. There was no warmth in their smiles, no spark of joy in their eyes, but for once in my life, I felt seen. That fleeting moment of recognition was enough for me to hold onto.

How could a child who had never known love not cling to the first people who acknowledged her existence?

I tried so hard to make them proud, to be the daughter they wanted. I cleaned the house, kept my voice low, and offered my thanks and apologies more often than I uttered my own name. I wanted to be useful, to earn my place in their lives. But with each effort, it felt like they drifted further away. Their affection was a mirage, always just out of reach. I was not their daughter; I was a tool, a favor, a burden. Yet, even as a burden, I clung to the notion that I was something to them.

I endured their indifference, allowing them to walk over me as if I were merely a piece of furniture they had bought and couldn’t return. Even in this moment, they continued to treat me as though my voice held no value.

But I had reached my breaking point.

I opened my mouth, my heart pounding like a drum in my chest. “I’ll say it again. Charles and I are over.”

“You stupid child!” My father’s roar filled the room, his sudden movement causing the couch to scrape loudly against the floor. “You’re still acting like a fool! Your mother and I came here to fix your mistakes, and you’re making everything worse! Are you crazy? Don’t you have any damn common sense?”

A smile crept onto my face, but my lips trembled with the effort to maintain it. “Crazy? Yes, Father. I’m a crazy bitch. That’s what I am, right?” My laughter rang hollow in the tense air. “I’m so crazy that I don’t even know what to do anymore. And why would you fix a problem that didn’t need fixing? Did I ask for your help? Did anyone here beg you to come?”

His hand clenched into a fist, his face reddening with anger.

“You—!”

Before he could finish, my mother intervened, grabbing his arm to stop him. She turned to me, her movements slow and deliberate, as if she were approaching a wild animal. Her hand reached out, gently brushing against mine.

I used to live for these moments, the rare instances when she touched me, when her eyes met mine with a hint of recognition, as if I were human too. But now, I simply stared at her, knowing all too well the familiar script we were about to play out. I had seen it too many times to count.

“All of us are just trying to smooth things over with both families,” she began, her voice soothing yet firm. “We figured this little argument with you and Charles is getting out of hand, and you’re just being stubborn. We wanted to help you solve this, Grace.”

“And besides,” she continued, her tone shifting slightly, “Charles just made a small mistake. We should all put it behind us. I know you love him. Is this fight not hurting you?”

Good cop, bad cop.

This was their favorite game, one I had grown weary of.

My father would unleash his fury, tearing me down with insults, while she would come in, soft and gentle, attempting to steer me back into their desired path, all while making me feel like I was the one making the choice.

But I was done playing along.

I yanked my hand from hers, the action startling her, her eyes widening in surprise.

“I didn’t come here to have this kind of conversation with you,” I stated, my voice devoid of emotion.

I turned to face Charles, locking eyes with him, the tension in the room thickening.

“You’re gay.”

The room fell silent, the atmosphere so still you could hear a pin drop.

All eyes turned to me, shocked by my bluntness. They had never expected me to be so straightforward.

Charles opened his mouth, but I cut him off before he could speak. “You like men,” I asserted, my voice steady. “You don’t like women. So why are you doing this to me and to yourself? You should be with the man you love.”

“W-what are you talking about…” Charles stammered, trying to maintain a facade of normalcy.

But Charles’ mother merely crossed her arms, exuding an air of indifference. My mother glanced at me, then quickly looked away, the tension palpable.

Charles stood up abruptly. “Mother, what did you do that for?”

He approached me, reaching out to touch my arm, but I instinctively stepped back, creating distance between us.

His hand hovered in the air, then fell to his side, confusion etched on his face as he struggled to comprehend why I was rejecting his touch.

I glared at him, my voice low and fierce. “Don’t act like you’re different.”

His expression flickered, uncertainty creeping in.

“You laid your hands on me to protect your lover. Have you forgotten?”

Charles froze, his mouth twitching as if he wanted to deny it, but the words never came.

“You see what I mean? Dramatic and unhinged,” his mother interjected, stepping forward again, but before she could continue, a cold voice sliced through the tension in the room.

“Enough.”

All heads turned.

Mr. Grayson had spoken. Even Charles’ mother fell silent, her mouth snapping shut as her entire demeanor shifted from haughty to submissive in an instant.

He rose slowly from his chair, his gaze sweeping across the room before finally landing on me.

I braced myself for what was to come.

“I’ve tolerated this nonsense long enough,” he stated, his voice firm and unwavering. “I don’t have time for tantrums or emotional theatrics, so I’ll get straight to the point, Grace.”

“-”

“Go back home, quit your job, and next week you and Charles are to get married.”