Please Sleep With Me
Min-ah.
The child of the woman who treated me like a walking wallet and ran off with another man. Not a drop of blood in common — strangers, by every biological measure. And yet she was more precious to me than anyone else in this world. The baby angel who had descended upon my wretched life.
She didn't share a single drop of my blood, but she was brilliantly clever. More than that — she attuned herself to me in every possible way. Something I had never once felt from the wife I'd divorced. It was like receiving a private, bespoke service at a five-star hotel, every last detail arranged for me and me alone.
It was when she was in the sixth grade. I'd come home after stitching up a neighborhood kid who'd taken a fall, and I must have looked exhausted, because my daughter started preparing everything I could possibly want.
"Dad! I cleaned the house today — how does it look? Is it nice and clean?"
"Dad! I tried making doenjang stew today. I don't know if you'll like it. I used the recipe you always make, except I added fried tofu! I really hope it tastes good!"
"Dad, you're tired, aren't you? How about a can of beer tonight?"
"Dad, I'll massage your shoulders. Min-ah's got magic hands — you'll feel better in no time!"
For a sixth-grader, she was far too mature. Once she reached the upper grades of elementary school, she started picking up the household chores I'd been doing, one by one, and by sixth grade she was handling most of them herself. When I told her to focus on her studies instead of housework, she just told me not to worry. And she meant it. Min-ah's academic evaluations in elementary school were at the highest level.
"I'm Dad's daughter. Of course I am."
That answer left a bitterness in me I couldn't quite swallow. Min-ah is not my daughter. I confirmed it to 99.999998 percent certainty — she is not my biological child. So how could she resemble me this much? Kind, hardworking, lacking nothing, endlessly charming. It was like looking in a mirror. They say you grow to resemble the people you live with — had she become like me just from watching me? How wonderful it would have been if Min-ah really were my blood.
......
No. Don't think like that. Whether we share blood or not isn't what matters. What matters is that Min-ah is my daughter. Nothing more, nothing less. Father and daughter. Daughter and father. I don't want anything beyond that, or beneath it. I want us to be a normal family — not an abnormal one. That's why I never told her she isn't my blood. And I never will, for as long as I live.
I even put a special clause in the divorce settlement with my ex-wife. If she ever told Min-ah that I wasn't her biological father, she'd owe me hundreds of millions of won in damages.
Min-ah resembled me in everything except her looks. Because of that, unless I actively thought about it, the fact that she wasn't my biological daughter barely crossed my mind. It saddened me that I wasn't the real father of such an exceptional girl, and I resented myself for even thinking about it. I'd sworn to forget — but I couldn't.
"I'm sorry, sweetheart. I'm so sorry for making things hard on you."
I pulled her into a tight embrace. Had my daughter grown this much? She no longer felt like a child. The sense that she was becoming a young lady was overwhelming.
"Dad, what's wrong? I already told you. I'm your daughter. I came into this world because of you, so I have to work hard for you too."
"Min-ah..."
"I'm not having a hard time at all, so it's okay, Dad. Besides — there's something you give me every single day."
Something small, hot, and wet brushed against my cheek.
"You tell me you love me every day. That's all I need."
Her arms — when had they gotten so long? — wrapped tightly around my neck.
"So don't say you're sorry."
Ah. That an angel like this had descended upon me... I could hardly believe it. Even when I was dating my ex-wife, I'd never felt this kind of consideration. Looking back... that woman had never loved me. She'd loved my family's money. She'd loved that I was a medical school graduate. But my daughter is different. She loves me, purely and completely. She gives back as much love as she receives — no, more than that. In a way, this felt more like being in love than I ever had when I was actually dating my ex-wife.
......
That said... when had Min-ah gotten this big? Holding her, I could tell for certain. She'd grown enormously. I hadn't been paying attention, so I hadn't noticed... she had to be at least a hundred and fifty centimeters already. And her secondary sexual characteristics... her chest had started to develop. Against my own chest, I could feel something small but unmistakably there — a soft mass of flesh pressing into me. She shouldn't have had her first period yet... Being a man, I'd completely forgotten about that. I'd told myself I was raising a daughter on my own, and I hadn't even taken care of something like this. I was failing as a father.
"H-hey, Min-ah. When you go to the bathroom... has there ever been blood? Or anything like that?"
Min-ah's face instantly flushed red. Oh no... from her perspective, was this an embarrassing thing to talk about?
"I-I'm sorry, sweetheart!! Dad's a guy, so I didn't understand how you'd feel!! I'm really sorry!!"
"Dad, I'm sorry... the blood started last year... I searched it online... and I figured out what it was. I should have told you... but I was scared... so..."
"Ah..."
My daughter was on the verge of tears. She'd realized she'd made the wrong choice. She could have made things easier by telling me, but she hadn't — and so she'd taken the harder path.
I'd already entrusted a good portion of the household expenses to her. Watching a child that young keep a household ledger and manage the budget, I'd thought I could trust her with it. She even gave me a simple monthly briefing on how much had come in and how much had gone out, which I appreciated. Sitting perched on my lap, telling me what she'd spent and what she'd received, then looking up at me with those eyes that begged for praise — she was so unbearably adorable. She'd been so mature that I'd forgotten. My daughter was still a little girl who needed my care.
"But then... if there was blood... there's no way I wouldn't have noticed..."
"I'm sorry, Dad... I put a lot of cotton from the medicine cabinet... down where the pee comes out..."
That was why I hadn't noticed when I bathed her. She hadn't wanted me to find out, so she'd taken off her pad beforehand and stuffed cotton wool into her genitals.
"Never!! You must never, ever do that!!"
My voice came out louder than I intended. What my daughter had done was absolutely not good for her body.
"Please forgive me, Dad. I did something so stupid."
She started to cry. She seemed so grown-up, but seeing her like this, she was still just a sixth-grader.
"Dad loves you more than anything in this world."
"Mhm... hic... mhm..."
"Someone that precious can't be allowed to get sick, right? I have to make you better, don't I?"
"Mhm... that's right."
"What's Dad's job?"
"A doctor... you're a doctor..."
"Anything that hurts Min-ah, this doctor-dad can fix. All of it."
"Mhm..."
"So from now on, if your body feels off or there's blood, you have to tell Dad. Okay?"
I held out my pinky.
"Promise me, sweetheart."
"Okay, Dad... I won't do it again."
Min-ah hooked her pinky — already grown longer — around mine.
"Dad, I'm tired."
"Alright. Should we go to bed a little early tonight?"
"Mhm."
I carried her to the bed just like that, still holding her. We should have brushed our teeth, but I figured skipping it for one night wouldn't hurt. And that was how it went... most of the troubles that arose between us were resolved by falling asleep together.
But then... when she entered her third year of middle school, something happened.
The secondary sexual characteristics that had begun in sixth grade had, by the ninth grade, given her the appearance of a fully-fledged young woman. I hated even bringing her up, but Min-ah had taken after her mother — her looks had transformed from a puppy's cuteness into a cat's beauty. Her chest, her hips — everything that was going to come in had come in. And yet I was still sleeping in the same bed with her. Because she liked sleeping with me.
A problem had arisen. Time and again, I'd wake up with an erection. I'm not bragging, but when I'm hard, my penis is large enough to poke right out of my underwear. Why is this happening? Right. I've been feeling a lot more physically vigorous lately. Probably because I have so much more breathing room than I used to. It's a good sign, health-wise — but it's something I can never, ever let my daughter see. If she saw that, a child who follows me so devotedly... would come to despise me.
So I talked to her. I asked if it wasn't time we started sleeping separately. I tried to sweeten the deal by offering to buy her whatever bed she wanted.
"No!! I don't want to!! If Dad won't sleep with me, then I just won't sleep!!"
The moment the words left my mouth, Min-ah threw herself onto the floor and wailed at the top of her lungs.
"Dad abandoned me!! He said he wouldn't leave me and then he abandoned me!!"
Of all things, she'd become a wicked little girl who used the words I hated hearing most. But I couldn't raise my voice at her. I'd sworn I would never yell at my daughter. I had to soothe her.
"Dad's... worried he might make a mistake."
"What kind of mistake?"
The words caught in my throat.
"Well... that is to say..."
"I like Dad."
"Huh?"
"You like me too, don't you?"
"W-well, yes."
"Then we love each other."
"That's right."
I had the creeping sense I was being reeled in.
"Then that means we have to love each other's flaws too, right? All of them?"
"...Y-yeah."
She threw herself into my arms once more.
......
How could I possibly refuse words like that from a daughter this precious?
"...Alright. Then let's... do it in a way where Dad doesn't make any mistakes."
"So we'll keep sleeping together forever?"
"W-well, yes."
"Yay!! Thank you, Dad!!"
She buried her face in my chest. A moment later, my shirt started to grow damp. She'd begun to cry.
"Sweetheart... what's wrong? Did something happen? Did I do something else wrong? I'm sorry..."
"No... sniff... it's not Dad's fault."
"Th-then what?"
She was crying, holding it in as best she could.
"I'm sorry... Dad... I'm sorry... I was so scared... that you'd leave me..."
Ah. My precious, beloved daughter. To worry about me this much. I held her tight.
"Dad loves you."
"R-really?"
"I won't leave you."
"......"
"So let's not talk about being abandoned, okay, sweetheart?"
"...But you still could."
"I will never abandon my daughter."
"...Can you promise?"
"I promise. Pinky swear."
And so we hooked our pinkies together once more.
"I'll never forget this promise."
"Dad won't forget either, so don't worry so much."
"Okay... thank you."
"Shall we go to bed now?"
"Yeah... carry me."
I scooped her up. She was taller than most grown women — and light as a feather.