Morgan's grip on my hand tightens.
"I tried to help. Suggested therapy, offered to take time off work, asked my parents to come stay with us. But Sarah wouldn't talk to me. Wouldn't tell me what was wrong. Then one day, Riley was about ten months old, and I came home to find Sarah packing a bag."
"She was leaving."
"Yeah. She said she couldn't do it anymore. That she'd made a mistake, that she wasn't cut out to be a mother. That Riley was—" My voice catches. "That Riley was a mistake."
"Oh, Casey."
"I begged her to stay. Not for me, but for Riley. Told her we could work through it, get her help, whatever she needed. But she just kept saying she couldn't. That every time she looked at Riley, she felt trapped. Suffocated."
"So, she left."
"Walked out the door and never looked back. She signed away her parental rights six months later. No contact, no child support, nothing. Like Riley never existed."
Morgan is crying now, silent tears sliding down her cheeks. "I'm so sorry."
"The worst part isn't that she left me. It's that she left Riley. Our daughter, this perfect, beautiful little person who did nothing wrong except exist. And Sarah looked at her and saw a mistake."
"Riley's not a mistake," Morgan says fiercely.
"I know. God, I know. Riley is the best thing that ever happened to me. But Sarah calling her that..." I have to stop, swallow hard. "I've never forgiven her for that. Don't think I ever will."
"You shouldn't have to."
We sit there for a moment, both of us holding onto each other's pain like we can somehow make it lighter by sharing it.
"Does Riley know?" Morgan asks quietly.
"That her mom didn't want her? No. I told her that her mom had to leave, but that it doesn't mean anything about Riley. That she's loved and wanted and that we're a happy family, just the two of us."
"You are," Morgan says. "Happy, I mean. Anyone can see that. The way you are with her, the way she lights up around you. You've done an amazing job."
"I'm just trying not to fuck her up too badly."
"You're not fucking her up at all." She says it with such conviction that I almost believe her. "You're giving her everything she needs. Love, stability, security. That's more than a lot of kids get."
"She deserves more than just me, though. She deserves—"
"She deserves a parent who adores her and would do anything for her, and that's exactly what she has." Morgan leans forward slightly. "Don't sell yourself short, Casey. You're a good father. A great one."
Something warm spreads through my chest at her words. Not just because she said them, but because she means them. I can see it in her eyes, hear it in her voice.
"Thank you," I say.
"For what?"
"For listening. For not... I don't know. Pitying me or telling me I should try to work things out with Sarah or any of the other bullshit people say."
"I would never tell you that." She squeezes my hand. "Sarah made her choice. A terrible, selfish choice. But you made yours too, and you chose Riley. You chose to stay, to be her dad, to give her the best life you could. That takes strength."
"Or stubbornness."
"Brave stubbornness, then."
I smile despite everything. "Is that a thing?"
"It is now."
