I stand at a distance, tears streaming down my face. No effort to stop them. No effort to hide them.
This little girl. This woman. They will be the undoing of me.
Then Rhea glances up at me, nods and motions me toward the little bed.
“Just talk to her,” she whispers. “Let her hear your voice.”
But I can’t move. I’m frozen. I shake my head, overwhelmed.
She reads it all in an instant, and reaches for my hand.
“Just tell her you’re here.” she says, barely above a breath.
I nod.
She smiles—soft, reassuring, maternal in a way that pierces right through me. And I look at the girl and realize,there’s no time for pride. There’s no time for righteous indignation and legal maneuvers.
Today could be all there is.
And so I let myself say it.
“Hey, Esme, it’s me. Your daddy.”
And then - because it’s true and because it matters, “I love you.”
THIRTY-NINE
RHEA
I am both stunned and simultaneously not a bit surprised when he says, “Hey, Esme. It’s me. Your daddy…I love you.”
He kisses her forehead, and doesn’t move. Just stays, there, breathing her in. And then he raises his head and I watch as his tears spill onto her bare chest, catching in the light like rain on porcelain.
I step back. I want him to have his moment—his first real moment—with the daughter he didn’t know he had.
But then a nurse touches my shoulder. “It’s hard, I know. But we’ve got to let her rest now.”
I don’t argue. “When can we come back?” I whisper.
“Every few hours until she’s more stable,” she says kindly. “You could go get some breakfast and check back.”
Breakfast?
It’s morning?
I had no idea.
Spencer leans down to whisper one more thing to Esme, something I can’t hear, then stands and brushes his fingers acrossher cheek.
Together,we walk out of the PICU and down the long corridor, into the white light of something entirely new.
When we’re far enough away from the room, I turn him toward me.
“That was so brave,” I say. “So beautiful. She deserves you, Spencer.”
And then, after a beat, “Even if I don’t.”
For a second, I think he might brush it off. But instead, his face shifts—and I see it again.
