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“Then take one more. Call him and see how that goes.”
“And if it’s really over?”
“Then you won’t be alone. I’ll be here, and you can start sharing your new war stories.”
“This is the worst.”
“I know.” She leaned in to hug me. “You can do this, Koti, you are so much braver than you will ever know. Every chance you take shows how much you’ve grown.”
“God, I love you. I know this is strange, but I’m so glad I had a panic attack in that Mexican restaurant. What if you hadn’t found me in that corner? I hate to think we wouldn’t have met.”
“I think life would have made sure we found a way.”
“You think so?” I sniffed as she pulled away
“I’m sure of it. I’ll always be your Mexican.”
Three months of agony because I made the same decision I did fifteen years ago. It would always be my daughter, DNA or none, she was mine. I was taught early that blood didn’t matter. My adopted brother was black, and when we got him, I was old enough to know better than ask questions about why he was different. My parents were careful with me the first few months, going out of their way to coddle me when we adopted him. I was never upset, in fact, that extra attention irritated me. Adam was the one who felt the most anguish, growing up in a home where he constantly felt the difference.
Blood didn’t matter, skin nor eye color, or native tongue. What mattered was what that person meant to you. If my ex-wife had charged her sperm donor with the task of raising Ella, I would’ve been free to be whatever I wanted, I would’ve known that Tara was a liar and a cheat, and I would’ve had my choice of lives. But that wasn’t what happened, and at the end of my selfish tirade, I found myself grateful for her deceit. It made me Ella’s daddy.
And so, while I’ve never fathered a child, I was a father, a daddy, a dad, and on most days, she deemed me an asshole. My range of titles stemmed from trusting the one thing in the world I know to be true for so long, and it was the one thing that could never be taken away from me.
Hurt or not, I was never going to let that happen.
And then I think of Koti and our summer by the sea and how that was the life I wanted. With her. I didn’t want to be waiting in the wings while my daughter lived her life. I wanted to be with the woman whose smiles lit up my soul, whose voice soothed the bullshit, whose heart was made of flesh and gold. I wanted to whisper to her that I love her every night before she drifted to sleep. To be her comfort when she got nervous. I wanted to ease her mind and make her laugh, make her come, make her mine. But that was the selfish part of me who still brimmed with anger about a life I didn’t get to choose.
The father I am says there is no choice. That man remembers the chubby hands reaching for him along with the alligator tears. He remembers the first muddled sounds she made that were solely for him. She needed me and I needed her. Ella would always be my purpose in life.
The ache will eventually recede. I’ll find a woman to keep my bed warm. And Koti would—
I cut myself off mid-thought. It shouldn’t hurt this fucking much.
We hadn’t spoken. Nothing to say. What can we say? I made my choice. She doesn’t want to leave her life and my job as a father binds me to where I need to be. It was never supposed to start, and it was never going to last. We both knew it.
Doesn’t matter you’re in ashes, you love her, you miss her.
My throat burned with emotion as I tipped my coffee and stared at the green expanse of my new backyard. It wasn’t the view I wanted.
She has my view and soon enough someone else will have my ocean.
My phone buzzed on the counter and I ignored it, sure it was my mother. Thinking better of it, I caught it just before it stopped.
“Hello,” I said, looking at the screen and freezing when I saw her name.
“I love you,” she whispered softly. “Ian, I love you.”
I closed my eyes. I could hear the waves crash. I imagined her on her hammock staring at her toes.
“I should have said it when you were here. I would give anything to see your face right now, to see if it even matters to you.”
My heart sank. “Of course it matters.”
“I hate this. I hate it here without you.”
“I’m in hell,” I said my voice sandpaper. “I won’t put on a brave front to spare you.”
“Have you ever?” I could hear her smile, but it was solemn. “I don’t want to leave, Ian. You know I’ve accepted my limits. I don’t want to throw all this work away. I won’t be the woman you love. I would never ask you to leave Ella, I just want you to know how not okay I am. Because I miss you and even though I was supposed to let you go, I can’t.”
