Chapter 12 - THE DAUGHTER WHO ASKED THE HARDEST QUESTION
Emily turned eight in the spring.
We celebrated in Boston.
There were balloons.
A chocolate cake.
A science-themed treasure hunt.
And a backyard full of laughing children.
Vincent attended.
So did Lucas.
Sophia remained in Chicago, respecting the boundaries established through counseling.
After the party, Emily asked Vincent to sit with her on the porch.
I watched from the kitchen window.
She held a small wrapped gift.
“For you.”
Vincent looked surprised.
“My birthday isn't until November.”
“I know.”
He opened the gift.
Inside was a photograph.
Emily as a newborn.
Wrapped in a pink hospital blanket.
Vincent went still.
Emily looked at him.
“Mommy said this was the day I was born.”
He nodded.
“She said you saw me.”
His eyes filled.
“Yes.”
Emily looked down.
“Why didn't you hold me?”
Vincent closed his eyes.
For a moment, he seemed unable to breathe.
Then he answered.
“Because I was selfish and wrong.”
Emily nodded slowly.
“Did you think boys were better?”
Vincent's face crumpled.
“No.”
“Then why did you go to Lucas?”
He swallowed.
“Because I believed being a father to a son mattered more than being a father to a daughter.”
Emily stared.
“That's silly.”
Vincent laughed through tears.
“Yes.”
She looked at the photograph.
“I'm glad Mommy didn't think that.”
Vincent nodded.
“Me too.”
Then Emily asked:
“Do you wish you could go back?”
Vincent looked at her.
“Every day.”
She thought about that.
Then said:
“You can't.”
He nodded.
“I know.”
“But you can come to my next birthday.”
Vincent covered his mouth.
Then whispered:
“I'd love to.”
Emily smiled.
And leaned against him.
He held her carefully.
May you like
As though he finally understood what he had lost.
And what he was being given the chance to build.
