Maverick’s eyes close.
For one second, pain cuts across his face so sharply I almost reach for him.
Then he opens his eyes again.
“You could never replace Elena,” he says gently. “No one could.”
Livy nods against him.
“But love is not a chair at a small table,piccola. You don’t have to wait for someone to get up before there’s room for you.”
My throat tightens.
Maverick looks down at her.
“Elena will always be my daughter. Always. Nothing changes that. Not time. Not grief. Not loving someone else.”
Livy’s fingers curl into his shirt.
“But if I am ever blessed enough to be your father too,” he says, his voice roughening, “that will not make me sad.”
Her head lifts.
“It won’t?”
“No.” He brushes her hair back from her face. “It will make me grateful.”
Tears fill my eyes.
Maverick swallows hard.
“My heart is sad because I lost Elena and her mom. But loving you and your mama would not make that sadness bigger.” He glances at me, then back at Livy. “It would give my heart another reason to beat.”
Livy’s lower lip trembles. “Really?”
“Really.”
“And you wouldn’t be mad if I called you Daddy one day?”
I can barely breathe.
Maverick’s eyes shine.
“No,piccola,” he whispers. “I wouldn’t be mad.”
“What about your first wife and daughter?” Livy asks. “Would they be mad at me and Mama if we both became yours?”
My heart twists.
“Livy,” I whisper, tears flowing down my face. “Honey, you have to stop.”
But Maverick shakes his head gently.
“It’s all right,bella.”
He shifts Livy higher in his arms and looks into her eyes.
“No,” he says softly. “They would not be mad.”
