Page 236 of Say My Name

“The name doesn't make her that, Elena. She already is.” He looks at me, and his expression is so open it feels like looking at the sun. “Whatever we call her, she's going to be extraordinary. You made sure of that before she was born.”

I swallow. “Emilia,” I say. “It was always at the top of the list. It means 'rival.' It felt... appropriate.”

“Emilia.” He tries it out, watching her face. “Emilia Rowe.”

“And Grace. For my mother.”

His eyes meet mine. “Emilia Grace Rowe.”

I take her from him, settle her against my chest. Her weight is impossibly light. “Hi, Emilia,” I whisper. “I'm your mama. I planned for everything except how much I would love you. It was the one thing I couldn't plan for.”

Dominic's arm tightens around me.

Together, we hold our daughter.

Epilogue

DOMINIC

At seven months old, our daughter has decided most food belongs on the floor.

A piece of banana lands beside my shoe. I look down at it, then at Emilia seated in the high chair between Elena and me.

“Your argument for more banana has been weakened by the evidence.” The words are dry, but my chest is so full it aches.

She responds with a delighted squeal and slaps the tray with both hands.

Elena bites back a smile and returns her attention to her laptop. She has been home for less than twenty minutes and is still wearing the charcoal suit she chose for this morning's board presentation. Her hair is pulled into a low knot, smooth this morning but now loosened around her face. She kicked off her heels near the kitchen island, set down her bag, and came directly to us.

I handle dinner while she reads the questions Maya sent from the board committee. That was the plan, anyway. The baby spots her, squeals, and reaches.

Elena catches the reaching fist with one hand and keeps scrolling with the other.

“You're being manipulated,” I tell her.

“I’m aware.” Her tone is just as dry as mine, and I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling.

“You're rewarding the behavior.”

“I’m acknowledging a reasonable request.” A tiny crease appears between her brows, the one that forms when she’s focused, and I know I’ve already lost.

Another piece of banana hits the floor.

“The request appears to be escalating.”

Elena closes the laptop and lifts our child from the high chair. Sweet potato immediately transfers from the bib to the lapel of her suit.

She glances at the orange smear. “This jacket was expensive.”

“You own other jackets.”

“That isn't the point.”

“I'll clean it.”

“You don't know how.”

“I employ people who do.”