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My daughter's name was Sophia May Davenport.
She weighed 3lbs, 4.3oz.
And she was beautiful.
She was even able to breathe on her own, but would not leave the NICU for a while, and she couldn’t come out of her incubator yet. Even so, she was still beautiful. I had spent the last 48 hours next to her. She would need a few more tests, but my mother believed she would make it. Right then, Hannah was in with her, sitting in her wheelchair, while I stood outside, signing papers.
“You look like you’ve had a rough couple of days.”
Hearing her voice made me freeze. I quickly prayed that when I turned around she would be there, and thanked God that she was when I did.
She held up a cup of what smelled like coffee for me.
Ignoring it, I pulled her into my arms…only she didn’t hug me back. She just stood there.
“Guinevere,” I said, breaking free. “I know this is messy and confusing, but I will work it out, I promise you—”
“Eli, it’s okay,” she whispered, placing the cup in my hand. “Don’t worry about me, I’m going to be fine. The only person that should be on your mind is your daughter. Congratulations. I really hope she gets much stronger.”
I hated this, how she smiled and it was so obviously fake, how it felt like she had closed the door on me. She had become cold.
“Guinevere, don’t.” I could feel it coming. “I know I can figure this out. Don’t shut me out. Give me a chance. Give us a chance—”
“Eli, we were just a fling.”
She all but stabbed me with her words, smiling still. “We were two lonely people who found comfort in each other, and now it’s time to get back to reality. You’ve been a great friend to me—”
“Stop it.” I couldn’t listen anymore.
“Eli—”
“Stop saying my name like that, like I never mattered to you. You are lying to my face right now; it’s so clear I feel insulted that you think I wouldn’t notice.”
“National Geographic is starting a new magazine called The Real. I’m going to be leaving for India, and then South Korea, and Russia. I’m going to take pictures all over the world, Eli, and you’re going to be an amazing father. ”
“You are running.” She was running as far as possible from me, and it hurt in ways I couldn’t begin to describe.
“I’m going to—”
“To take pictures, I heard you, but don’t go. You love me, so don’t go, Guinevere.”
For the first time, the fake mask she had been hiding under started to crack, and she couldn’t force that smile any more. “I never said I loved you, Eli. So let’s just do this—”
“Simply? Easily? Does any of this look simple or easy? Guinevere, you told me with your hands, your eyes, your body, that you were in love with me, and now you are running to India without giving me a chance.”
She shook her head, brushing hair behind her ear. “It was just sex, Eli—”
“You said it. You said it, right before you fell asleep in my arms that night. You must have thought you were only thinking it, but you said it with your own two lips, six words: I’m in love with you, Eli. So don’t tell me it was just sex. Don’t smile and say we were a fling.” I cupped her cheek, forcing her to look at me. “It wasn’t, we aren’t. With every fiber of my being, I know that what is between us is more than that, because I’m in love with you, too, Guinevere. So love me enough to say the words. Please.”
When she looked back to me, her eyes filled with tears she wouldn’t let fall. “Love me enough to let me go, Eli.”
My hand dropped from her face and I felt my eyes burn. I couldn’t. I wouldn't let us end that way, and yet she was going to leave. She didn’t deny she loved me, and she was still just going to leave me anyway. “Okay,” I whispered, and I hoped it hurt her to hear as much as it hurt me to say.
She nodded, walking away.
“Guinevere,” I called.
She stopped, but didn’t turn back to me.
