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“Don’t cry,” she said, her expression anxious.
“I’m crying because I’m happy,” he whispered taking the photo from her tiny hands and gingerly putting it on the mantel.
“No!” Emma reached for the photo, taking it in her pudgy hands. “Mine!”
“You want to keep that?” he asked, marveling at how easy she was to hold.
“My room,” she said, leaning back in his arms and peeking up at him from under her dark lashes.
In her room, she put on her pajamas and climbed into bed, still clutching his photo in her hands. Watching her, he knew he would remember every detail of this moment for the rest of his life.
Abruptly, his thoughts turned to Grace. He wanted to share this moment with her. She, better than anyone he knew, would appreciate how he was feeling. But first, he had to be sure that Emma was settled. “Do you want me to read to you?” he asked, following Lisa’s instructions about the bedtime routine.
“No. Mommy reads to me,” she said, her eyes dark pools of worry. “I want Mommy.”
Aidan felt so sorry for his little girl, and so helpless. Nothing would change the sad truth that her mother would never be with her again, would never hold her or read to her.
He knelt beside the bed. “Well, maybe you could show me your favorite book, and maybe I could read to you sometime. Maybe even tomorrow night?” he asked, fearing that she would simply continue to cry. If she did, what would he do? There was no one to turn to. He could call Grace, but what could she do over the phone?
Slowly a small smile started on Emma’s face, pushing her cheeks up into tiny pink globes. Was she going to be okay? “Can I take the photo?” he asked, hoping to smooth the tiny frown between her perfectly blue eyes.
Emma snuggled under the pink duvet, handing him the photo. “I’ll put it on the bookcase, will I?” he asked, unbelievably relieved that she seemed to be settling for the night.
She nodded, her thumb slipping into her mouth. He kissed her forehead, reveling in the softness of her skin and the fresh-scrubbed scent of her. Unfamiliar feelings he could not explain filled him. He’d never felt this way in his life. She gave him a sleepy smile as she snuggled beneath the sheets. He would do anything, make any sacrifice, for the little girl lying there looking up at him. Anything.
“See you in the morning,” he whispered.
“Leave the door open,” she murmured, her voice filled with sleep.
“Sure. I’ll check on you a little later. Sweet dreams, princess.”
He tiptoed out of the room, but not before he saw her eyelids slide closed. He took a deep breath, the first since he’d gotten her out of the tub. Overall, the evening had gone pretty well. Or, at least, he thought so. He’d be sure to check on her several times during the night, just in case. If she were afraid and lonely, would she get up and come into his room? Or would she go to her mother’s room?
Back in his room, he reread the list of instructions that Lisa had left for him—all sorts of information about Emma’s daily life, things he hadn’t imagined he’d need to learn so soon.
He called Grace, eager to tell her what had happened and talk about everything he was feeling. The past couple of hours had been a roller coaster, from his early fear that he couldn’t cope to his conviction that he could do this. He could.
“Hi, Aidan,” Grace said, her voice sounding strained.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“I’m fine. How are you?”
“I’m doing okay, mostly. I wanted to tell you about Lisa and what’s been going on,” he said as he started to list off the events since she’d left earlier in the day.
Grace listened to Aidan talk about his daughter in excited, upbeat tones. Even the news that the nanny had to be off for a few days didn’t seem to faze him. She was frankly amazed that Aidan hadn’t called her the minute he knew Lisa had to leave.
