Chapter 4: I Need Discipline in My Life

Continued from chapter 3:

“Maybe,” she says softly, “it could be used for something a little more personal.”

The room suddenly feels warmer. Becky laughs nervously under her breath.

“Oh my God. Listen to me.”

She looks away briefly, embarrassed by her own boldness.

“The beer is definitely getting to me.”

Still, she keeps lightly tapping the ruler against her palm.

“Ero?” she asks quietly.

My throat tightens.

“What would you want me to use it for?”

Chapter 4:

Heat floods my face instantly.

“B-Becky...”

She watches me carefully now.

“I think you know,” I admit.

The words come out strained. Humiliating.

“Are you going to make me say it?”

Something changes in her expression then. The nervousness softens into calm attentiveness. Becky sets the ruler down gently on the desk before reaching across the space between us.

Her fingertips brush lightly against my forearm.

“I think I do know,” she says.

Her voice is barely above a whisper.

“But I need to hear you say it.”

I stare at her.

Not mocking. Not judgmental. Patient. Steady. Encouraging.

“I’m new to this too,” she admits softly. “And you’re my boss, which makes this feel a little unreal.”

She swallows.

“But I want honesty between us.”

The ruler rests motionless beside her hand.

“Tell me what you need.”

I look away first. The shame of it burns through me.

“Becky,” I say quietly, “I need someone who won’t let me bulldoze over them.”

She listens silently.

“I need someone strong enough to push back.”

I **** myself to continue.

“You handled the work side of this job perfectly today. Better than I expected.”

Her expression softens.

“But this...”

I exhale shakily.

“This is the other part.”

I finally meet her eyes again.

“I need discipline in my life,” I confess. “Accountability. Structure. Someone willing to correct me when I deserve it.”

The admission leaves me feeling stripped bare.

“I know how ridiculous that sounds.”

“It doesn’t sound ridiculous,” Becky says immediately.

Her answer comes without hesitation. I blink at her. She sits straighter now, the uncertainty fading beneath quiet determination.

“You spend your entire life carrying responsibility,” she says. “Making decisions. Controlling everything around you.”

Her gaze remains steady on mine.

“Maybe you’re exhausted from never being allowed to let go.”

Something in my chest twists painfully. Becky reaches for my hand then, threading her fingers carefully through mine.

“I may be younger than you,” she says softly, “but that doesn’t mean I can’t take care of you too.”

The tenderness in her voice nearly undoes me.

“If you need someone to hold you accountable,” she continues, “then I can do that.”

A small smile touches her lips.

“And I won’t let you walk all over me either.”

I laugh weakly through the emotion tightening my throat.

“Thank you,” I whisper.

Becky squeezes my hand gently.

“You don’t need to be ashamed of wanting trust.”

But shame is exactly what floods through me. Because now she knows. Completely. The ruler rests between us like a final unspoken question.

“And now that you know,” I say quietly, “you must realize how humiliating this is for me.”

Becky’s expression grows impossibly gentle.

“Yes,” she says.

The honesty in her answer sends heat rushing into my face. She picks up the ruler again, tapping it thoughtfully against her palm.

“Are you going to make me ask for it?” I whisper.

She rises slowly from her chair. Then she walks around the desk toward me. Every movement is deliberate. Measured. When she finally stops in front of me, she braces both palms against the desk and leans down until we are eye level.

Her brown eyes search mine carefully.

“I am,” she says softly.

My pulse hammers.

“At least this first time.”

Her voice remains calm and reassuring.

“I need you to say the words because I need to know you truly want this.”

To be continued in chapter 5...