Chapter 7 - The Table for Three
Six months later, I walked through Saint Juniper's front doors holding Lily’s hand.
She hadn't stopped talking.
That was the problem now.
“Mommy, Daddy said I can have cake.”
I looked across the restaurant.
Roman was waiting at table seven.
“Did he?”
Lily nodded enthusiastically.
“Chocolate.”
Roman stood as we approached.
I gave him a look.
“Before dinner?”
He adjusted his cuff.
“I said she could have cake.”
“When?”
“Eventually.”
Lily frowned.
“Daddy.”
Roman looked down.
“Yes?”
“You tricked me.”
“I negotiated.”
“No.”
She climbed into her chair.
“You tricked.”
I laughed.
Roman looked at me.
“You've been teaching her that.”
“I've been teaching her English.”
“She seems particularly fluent when criticizing me.”
“Natural talent.”
Life had not magically become simple.
It had become real.
Victoria Pierce and several people connected to the hospital conspiracy were facing prosecution.
Thomas Vale had agreed to cooperate.
My original records had been restored.
The Reyes inheritance was tied up in court, but I didn't care much about the money.
Elena had testified.
I still didn't know whether I could ever forgive her.
Maybe someday.
Maybe not.
Roman had offered me one of his houses.
I refused.
He offered an apartment.
I refused that too.
Finally, he stopped trying to solve everything with money.
Instead, he gave me something more valuable.
Time.
Lily lived with me four nights each week and Roman three.
At least, that had been the official arrangement.
In reality, Roman appeared almost every morning.
Sometimes with breakfast.
Sometimes because Lily had forgotten her rabbit.
Sometimes with no excuse whatsoever.
One morning I finally asked him:
“Do you actually have a house?”
He answered, completely seriously:
“Several.”
“Then why are you always in mine?”
He had stared at me for a long moment.
“Because you're there.”
I hadn't known what to say.
Tonight, Roman reached beneath the table.
“Lily.”
She looked up.
“Present.”
He handed her a small box.
She opened it.
Inside was a new stuffed rabbit.
She frowned.
“No.”
Roman blinked.
“No?”
She hugged the battered old rabbit against her chest.
“This Bunny.”
I smiled.
“Rejected by a two-year-old.”
Roman examined the expensive toy.
“Humbling.”
“You needed it.”
Lily suddenly pointed between us.
“Sit.”
Roman looked at me.
I shrugged.
“You heard the boss.”
He sat.
Dinner arrived.
Halfway through, Lily fell asleep against my arm.
Roman watched her.
“She remembers more than we thought.”
“I know.”
“She asked about the hospital yesterday.”
My smile faded.
“What did you tell her?”
“That she was very little, some adults made terrible choices, and none of it was because of her.”
“That’s good.”
“I didn't tell her everything.”
“She doesn't need everything yet.”
Roman nodded.
Then he looked at me.
“Ava.”
“What?”
“I owe you an apology I can never finish.”
“You didn't steal her.”
“I should have looked harder.”
“You were given documents saying her mother was dead.”
“I still should have known.”
I studied him.
“The first night Lily was with you, what happened?”
He looked confused.
“What?”
“When you found her. What did you do?”
Roman looked down at our sleeping daughter.
“She wouldn't stop crying.”
“And?”
“I held her.”
“How long?”
“Until morning.”
“Did you know how to hold a newborn?”
“No.”
“Feed one?”
“No.”
“Change diapers?”
“Absolutely not.”
I smiled.
“But you stayed.”
“Yes.”
“Then stop apologizing for loving my daughter when I couldn't be there to love her myself.”
His eyes met mine.
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
Then Roman reached across the table.
He didn't grab my hand.
He simply placed his beside it.
Close enough for me to choose.
So I did.
I slipped my fingers into his.
Lily stirred.
Her eyes opened halfway.
She looked at our hands.
Then smiled sleepily.
“Mommy.”
“Yes, baby?”
“Daddy.”
Roman leaned closer.
“I'm here.”
She yawned.
“Home?”
I looked at Roman.
For two years, I had believed home was something I'd lost in a hospital room.
Roman had spent those same two years believing fatherhood was something he'd received by accident.
And Lily had spent them waiting for two people who didn't know they belonged at the same table.
I lifted her into my arms.
“Yeah, sweetheart.”
Roman picked up her battered rabbit and my coat.
We walked toward the doors together.
May you like
“Let's go home.”
And for the first time, all three of us meant the same place.
