“But I just wanted to kiss you,” I say, startled, when she pushes me away as I had just tried to near her.
Disgusted, she looks away from me; her eyes glinting with raging anger. Anger, that I know, needs to be erased with a lot of care.
“Reba, can we make it up. Please?” I say, feeling sorry for what I had done to her.
She says not a word, but stands stern, indifferent towards my expression of guilt.
I inch closer to her, wanting to hold her hands, and explain it all. But she stops me with a shot of her eyes.
I breathe deep, trying to convince myself that this would be okay in a while.
“I am sorry, Reba. Papa was so busy at office yesterday. His Sir didn’t allow him to come home before little Reba sleeps. So he couldn’t tell her the story of mermaids. Come now, let’s go to bed. I will tell you two stories tonight!” I lift her into my arms, and plant a tickling peck on her cheek, as I watch her giggle away like a luckily lost bird.
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