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You don’t know protectiveness until you have a daughter.
My sentence trails when Ellie’s cheeks puff up with air. She rolls her eyes. I swear to god, girls are born with that ability.
“There are going to be plenty of people in your life that don’t agree with something that you like. But as long as you like it, it doesn’t matter what they think.”
My jaw clenches, and I’m not sure if it’s because I’m feeling protective over her or if it’s something else. Like possessiveness.
Her chin is so small in my hands, and her warm gaze is enough for me to burn the world down if she asked me to.
