I have to cling to the facts. The concrete reality. “You didn’t call her once. Notonce.”
“I know.” The fight seems to drain out of her as quickly as it came. She slumps back, looking exhausted. “And I will haveto live with that for the rest of my life. That’s my sentence, Leo. It’s not one you get to hand down to me. But keeping her from me now, when I’m well, that doesn’t heal her. All it does is teach her that people aren’t allowed to be human, to break and try to mend.”
The logic in her argument is a jagged little pill, and I hate how easily I can swallow it. She’s right—the brain is an organ, and hers malfunctioned. If this were a stroke or a tumor, I’d be the first person in the lab defending the patient’s lack of agency. But this isn’t a lab. This is my daughter’s heart.
I stare at her, watching the way she grips her damp handkerchief. I want to stay mad forever. I want to nurse this grudge until it’s a petrified monument to my own righteousness. It’s comfortable here, wrapped in the heat of my indignation. But anger is a luxury I can’t afford anymore. It won’t serve Emma, and it’s starting to make me feel like a version of myself I don’t particularly like—someone rigid and punishing.
“If I just…open the door and let you walk back in,” I say, my voice low, “what does that teach her? It teaches her that someone can hurt her deeply, vanish from her life, and face no consequences. And worse, that I was the one who allowed it. I won’t do that. I will never do that. I’m her father. My one job is to be the wall between her and the world’s worst hurts. Even if the hurt is you.”
Her eyes narrow, sharpening like she’s gearing up for another round, but her chin’s got a telltale wobble, lips trembling just enough to crack the tough front she’s trying to hold. It’s crumbling, fast, tears pooling again as she blinks them back.
“It’s not like I want you gone from her life forever,” I add, softening the edge in my tone because damn it, the truth slips out anyway. “Regardless of how I feel about you, Emma loves you. She misses you. And I love her infinitely more than I careabout hanging on to my own bitterness toward you. I won’t use her as a weapon.”
I reach for my coat, the heavy wool a grounding weight. Rebecca’s face softens, hope flickering across it.
“But youwillget a lawyer,” I tell her, and I make sure she sees the absolute finality in my expression. “That’s the deal. That’s theonlydeal. You do this the right way, the slow way, the hard way. We’re going to have a mediator, a schedule, and a legal paper trail. There will be structure and accountability. That’s the only way I’m willing to move forward with this, for her safety and my sanity.”
“Leo—”
“I’m serious, Rebecca. If you want to be in Emma’s life, then I need you to prove it. Prove that you’re committed to doing the hard work. Prove that you’re not going to vanish the second life gets hard again, because it will. I’m not taking your word for it, not anymore.”
Rebecca swallows, her throat working hard. She looks like she wants to argue, to claim the moral high ground one last time, but then she just nods. It’s a slow, defeated movement.
“A lawyer,” she repeats.
“A lawyer,” I confirm. “Show me you can commit to a process, Rebecca. Not just a feeling.”
“Okay. I’ll get a lawyer. I’ll do it the right way.” She wipes her eyes with her handkerchief. “I just want to see her, Leo. I just want a chance to be her mom again.”
“Then you’ll have to earn it.”
She nods, looking down at her coffee. “I will. I promise.”
I don’t say anything. Promises from Rebecca don’t mean much to me anymore. But at least this time, if she breaks it, there will be a paper trail. Legal consequences. Something more than just my word against hers.
I stand up from the vinyl booth. “Have your lawyer contact mine. We’ll set up a meeting.”
“You have a lawyer?”
“I will by Monday.”
She almost smiles at that. Almost. “You always were good at planning ahead.”
“Yeah, well. Someone has to be.”
I head for the door, but this time when she calls my name, I pause.
“Leo?”
I turn.
“Thank you,” she says quietly. “For not shutting me out completely. For giving me a chance.”
I don’t say “you’re welcome” because I’m not doing this for her. I’m doing it for Emma.
And suddenly I’m out the door, into the cold November air, walking toward the subway that’ll take me home.
Chapter 21
