All Chapters of my girlfriend's Dad: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

Eli had expected dinner to feel easier.With Lily at his side, he thought her chatter would fill the silence, that Damian would fade into the background like any other dad, nodding and smiling politely while the kids talked.He was wrong.The three of them sat at a long oak table, candles lit in a way that made the room feel both warm and strangely formal. A roasted chicken sat in the center, flanked by bowls of potatoes, green beans, and bread. The air smelled faintly of rosemary and garlic. Lily had piled her plate quickly, humming under her breath as she scrolled through something on her phone between bites.Damian, however, didn’t touch his food right away. He poured himself a glass of red wine, then glanced at Eli’s water glass.“Wine?” he asked.Eli hesitated. “Uh, sure. If that’s okay.”Damian gave no answer, just poured with a steady hand, sliding the glass across the table. Their eyes met briefly. Damian’s expression didn’t shift, but something in it made Eli feel like he’d j

Eli woke earlier than usual the next morning, determined not to give Damian any reason to think less of him. The house was quiet, the kind of heavy stillness that comes before coffee brews and footsteps sound. He slipped out of Lily’s room, careful not to wake her, and padded down the stairs.The kitchen glowed faintly with the soft amber light of dawn through the windows. Eli rolled up his sleeves and decided he’d make breakfast. He wanted Damian to come down and see that he could be useful—that he was willing to put in effort.Eggs. Toast. Coffee. Easy enough.But somewhere between scrambling the eggs and buttering the toast, he lost focus. He left the butter knife streaked across the counter. He forgot to put his shoes away by the door after slipping them on to grab the paper from the porch. And when he poured coffee, he set the pot down a little too hard, a faint splash marking the pristine surface of the counter.He didn’t notice any of it.Not until Damian’s voice cut through th

The smell of roasted chicken filled the dining room, warm and rich, but Eli’s stomach was in knots. He sat across from Lily, watching her spoon mashed potatoes onto her plate, smiling at something trivial her dad had said about work. Damian didn’t speak much, but when he did, everyone seemed to fall quiet just to listen. Eli tried not to fidget. He could feel Damian’s presence at the head of the table like a weight pressing down on him. The man didn’t need to raise his voice. He didn’t need to glare. The quiet control he carried was enough to make Eli’s pulse skip every time their eyes met. “More wine, Eli?” Lily asked, nudging the bottle toward him. “Uh, yeah, sure.” He reached for it, trying to keep his hands steady as he poured her a glass. “You’re so tense,” she teased, laughing. “Dad doesn’t bite, you know.” Eli forced a laugh, his throat dry. If only she knew the truth—that it wasn’t fear of disapproval that made him sit up straighter or mind every word. It was somethin

Eli had just stepped out of the shower when there was a knock at the bathroom door. He froze, towel clutched tight around his waist. “Yeah?” he called, voice uneven. The door opened a crack. Damian’s voice slid through, low and smooth. “Relax. It’s only me.” Eli’s pulse jumped. He backed up instinctively, the steam curling around him like a fog. Damian slipped inside and shut the door, locking it with a quiet click. Your feedback is everything ✨ Leave a comment if you’re enjoying the story, or share your theories for what might happen next. I read them all, and they really motivate me to keep going! “What are you—” “Shh.” Damian’s gaze swept over him, steady and deliberate. He leaned against the counter, folding his arms. “I’m not here to talk long. Just to give you something.” Eli’s throat worked. “Something?” “A task.” The word hung in the air, heavy and certain. Eli’s stomach knotted, but his body betrayed him—heat flaring low, breath catching. Damian smirked at

The morning sunlight streamed through the kitchen windows, catching on the polished oak of the table. The smell of coffee and toast filled the air, warm and comforting, almost enough to make Eli forget the storm raging in his chest. Almost. He lingered by the doorway, his backpack slung over one shoulder, eyes flicking automatically toward Damian. The man was seated at the head of the table, newspaper folded neatly beside his plate, black coffee steaming in front of him. Lily was already seated, scrolling on her phone while chewing on a piece of toast. “Hey, babe, you’re up late,” she said without looking up. Eli’s body moved to sit, but his mind stopped him cold. The rule. His chest tightened, his legs locked. He couldn’t—he wasn’t supposed to sit without permission. He hovered, awkward and stiff, fingers tightening on the strap of his backpack. His heart pounded against his ribs as seconds stretched. Lily finally looked up, frowning. “Uh… what are you doing? Sit down.” Eli’s