Later, I sat on the couch reviewing a few documents while Valentina organized something in the kitchen. Clara played onthe rug near me, absorbed in her dolls, inventing dialogues and stories that only made sense inside her bright, childish imagination.
For a moment, I simply watched her play.
Every detail of that instant felt too precious to ignore—her dark hair falling over her shoulders, her rosy cheeks, the focused look in her eyes as she narrated entire worlds to herself.
Clara suddenly looked up and met my gaze, breaking into a wide smile.
I smiled back immediately, unable to hide the emotion she always stirred in me.
But there was something different in her eyes—an intensity, a depth of curiosity that made me attentive.
“Uncle Enrico?” she called, leaving her dolls behind and walking toward me slowly, almost cautiously.
I set the papers aside and opened my arms, pulling her onto my lap.
“Hey, my princess. What is it?” I asked, stroking her hair.
She hesitated, biting her lower lip in a gesture so much like Valentina’s that it made me smile.
“Can I ask you something really serious?” she asked softly, looking at me with a fragile kind of courage.
I smiled reassuringly, wrapping her in a gentle hug, trying to give her all the comfort and safety I could.
“Of course, Clara. You can ask me anything—always. You don’t have to be afraid, okay?”
She took a deep breath, gathering all the bravery she could, then asked in a small, trembling voice:
“Can you be my dad?”
My heart slammed hard against my ribs. The surprise stole my voice.
For a few seconds, I could only stare at her in stunned silence, her words echoing again and again in my mind.
At that exact moment, Valentina stepped into the living room, drawn by Clara’s uncertain tone. Her eyes met mine instantly, reflecting the same shock and emotion I felt.
No words were needed between us to understand: our daughter was ready to know the truth.
I took a deep breath, adjusting Clara gently on my lap so I could look straight into her eyes.
“What made you ask that, princess?” My voice came out soft, thick with emotion.
Clara fiddled with a button on my shirt, glancing away before answering.
“Well… all my friends have dads, and they stay with the moms. And you’re always here with us. You take care of me, you play with me, and when I’m sad you hold me tight and make everything better… just like a dad does.” She paused, flicking a hopeful glance at Valentina before whispering, “So I wanted to know if you can be my dad, because I think I’d really like that.”
My eyes burned at the simple, innocent honesty of her words.
I looked at Valentina and saw the tears shimmering in her eyes—mirroring exactly what I felt.
With a small nod, she gave me the silent permission and strength I needed.
I swallowed, steadying my voice.
“Clara, you’re a very smart little girl,” I said softly. “And I need to tell you something very important now, okay?”
She nodded, eyes wide.
“My love… I already am your dad,” I murmured. “I always have been—since the day you were born. But for a long time, I wasn’t here with you, because some very hard things happened, and I ended up being far away. But I’m here now. And I’m never leaving again.”
