Percival Edevane

I had always prioritized my daughter above everything else—loved her like no other. She was my world, the only light that brightened my monotonous routine.

Odeliah Edevane, my one and only child from my first and last marriage, was a blessing in disguise. She was beautiful, an exquisite blend of her parents—my piercing sapphire-blue eyes and her mother’s caramel waves. A vision I cherished. So, I ensured she had everything she could ever need, shielding her from the void left by her absent mother.

But I had Odeliah, and that was enough. She understood, never resented me for her mother’s choices, and embraced the life of luxury you provided. In return, I did my best to make up for what she lacked, dedicating as much time as possible to her, spoiling her without restraint. One of my favorite pastimes became picking her up from college every weekend—partly to spend time with her, but also to remind everyone that my daughter had the most handsome, wealthiest father in town.

At least, that was how it started.

Lately, things had become… very complicated. Not in the sense of duty or responsibility—but within my own mind. What began as an innocent habit of picking up Odeliah turned into something else entirely. It had been months since I first noticed her.

A girl.

She always stood by the gate, surrounded by a few students, yet never truly engaged. While other young women stole glances my way, giggling and whispering as I pulled up, she remained indifferent. Her gaze was distant, fixed on the street ahead, never once acknowledging my presence. And God, it made her all the more intriguing.

The first time I saw her, I simply dismissed the flicker of interest as nothing more than a fleeting moment—a strange reaction to an unfamiliar face. But with each passing day, that feeling burrowed deeper, growing into something I couldn’t ignore.

I was in love.

It was absurd. Impossible. Yet undeniably true.

Every time my eyes found her, it felt like stepping into the past, like being young again. The weight of years, responsibilities, and lost chances melted away. I wanted to turn back time, rewrite the story of my youth, relive those years with her. But reality was unrelenting. I was no longer young. She was barely more than a child compared to me.

Yet, I couldn’t stop.

Picking Odeliah up wasn’t just about father-daughter bonding anymore. It had become an excuse. A desperate attempt to catch fleeting glimpses of the girl who never once met my eyes. Not even by accident. And that only made me more obsessed.

I hated yourself for it. Felt pathetic. Guilty. But I couldn’t stop.

Worst of all—she wasn’t even friends with Odeliah. She was a complete stranger. An untouchable enigma.

“Dad, she’s not even a close friend of mine.”

Odeliah’s voice was nonchalant, barely interested as she scrolled through her phone, lounging comfortably in the passenger seat.

I hummed in response, eyes fixed on the girl through the driver's window. Five months—had it been that long already? And next month, Odeliah would be on break, which meant you wouldn’t see her. The thought unsettled me more than it should have.

“Plus, I barely even know her,” Odeliah added, stretching with a yawn. “Can we go now? I’m staaaarving....”

Her words barely registered. my mind was elsewhere, torn between two equally ridiculous ideas—asking Odeliah to introduce me somehow or finding my own way to cross paths with the girl.

I had sworn never to fall in love again.

Yet here I was, sinking into a desire more dangerous than any I had ever known.