She doesn’t answer right away. I watch her eyes flicker, her lips pressing into a tight line. Then, slowly her gaze flicks to mine.
"I'm afraid of losing what we have…of losing my love for you because of a rushed marriage."
The words hit harder than I expect. I breathe in through my nose trying my damndest not to react.
If only she knew how much I understood that.
She doesn't wait for a response, turning back toward the front of the café, leaving me standing in her office.
I stay there a moment longer, leaning my back against the door. I close my eyes trying to remember how far we’ve come, how much healing has already happened. But it feels like a house of cards. One wrong move and it’ll all collapse.
I want to scream at her. To tell her that I’d rather lose everything than lose what we have. But the words catch in my throat. I’m not sure if I’m ready to lay it all out just yet.
I don't sleep that night. My mind won't shut off. So, I wake up early for the day. There's not much happening today, just taking Aura to her eight-month checkup. I still can't believe she's almost one.
Time has flown by so fast that I regret not starting to plan her birthday party earlier, as Millie suggested. March will be here sooner than we think. I'm hoping that Saturday goes off without a hitch—then Millie and I can plan the perfect celebration for our little girl.
As I am making breakfast for Aura, my phone rings. It's my Ma.
"Ciao, Mamma."
"Ugh! I just love Amelia so much," she says without missing a beat.
Great…I haven't told her about the tension between Millie and me. But I've got a plan. I'd rather tell her I'm engaged.
"What makes you say that?"
"Oh, amore mio," she sighs, "she texted me last night to say she made my maritozzi recipe. She wanted me to teach her when you were here, and I was happy to! She's a great baker, amore."
I pause startled. Millie never mentioned that to me. And I know she doesn’t ask people for help easily. Not unless she’s serious. My stomach flips with the idea that there may be hope after all.
Millie asked my Ma to teach her to make maritozzi? My thoughts are racing, but then Aura begins to cry on the baby monitor.
"Mamma, Aura is waking up. I'll call you later?"
"Yes, yes, go take care of my girl."
I end the call and head upstairs to Aura's room.
“Buongiorno, Amorino1,” I coo, lifting her from her crib.
I cradle her in my arms, kissing her forehead. Being a single dad has its challenges, but I wouldn't trade this life for anything. It's hard, but it's mine.
Aura wraps her tiny fingers around the collar of my shirt, tugging with surprising strength. “Ba ba ba,” she babbles, eyes wide and bright.
I’m here piccolina2,” I whisper. “Always.”
I change Aura into a warm, knitted dress and tights for the cooler weather, then head to the kitchen. After breakfast, we're off to the pediatrician.
"We are going to the doctor's today, Beanie. I can't promise you that a vaccine isn't in your future. But I can promise you that I will protect and comfort you through it."
Driving to the pediatrician's office, I reflect on everything that’s happened over the past year.
It’s been a whirlwind of changes and challenges. I became a father to the most amazing little girl, one who has brought more joy into my life than I ever thought possible. But her arrival hasn’t come without its struggles—her mother abandoned us both shortly after she was born. It was a difficult time, but it pushed me to make some bold decisions.
Imoved to a new state, a new town, where I started fresh and took on a new job as a officer. As I drive, I think about how much my life has transformed in such a short time.
Despite the hardships, though, I’ve never felt more blessed. Fatherhood has changed me in ways I never could have anticipated, and even on the toughest days, I wouldn't trade a single moment of it.
