Chapter 4
I knelt down in front of her.
I was crying so hard I couldn't speak.
I just nodded.
She studied my face for a long moment.
And then she smiled.
That smile.
And she ran into my arms.
I held her.
She was warm.
She was real.
She smelled like vanilla and crayons.
She was perfect.
"Mommy said you'd hold me like this," she whispered in my ear.
I squeezed her tighter.
"I'll never let you go," I promised.
Maya drove us to her house.
Lily fell asleep in the car, her head on my shoulder.
I didn't move the entire ride.
I just watched her sleep.
"She's been asking about you every day for years," Maya said quietly. "Cara told her so many stories. She showed her pictures. Lily would draw pictures of the three of you together. She always left a space for you."
"Why didn't Cara tell me sooner?" I asked. My voice was rough.
"She was scared," Maya said. "Scared you'd hate her for leaving. Scared the disease would progress faster. Scared you'd try to take Lily away before she was ready. She wanted to make sure Lily was old enough to understand. And she wanted to make sure she had enough time to… prepare everything."
We arrived at Maya's house.
It was warm and cozy.
Full of color.
Full of life.
Maya showed me Lily's room.
The walls were covered in drawings.
Drawings of a mommy and a little girl.
And in every single one, there was a man-shaped figure.
Blank.
Waiting.
"She called you her 'space daddy,'" Maya said. "Because Cara told her you were up among the stars, watching over them until it was time to come home."
My heart broke all over again.
That night, I slept on the couch in Maya's living room.
But I didn't sleep much.
I kept going into Lily's room to watch her.
To make sure she was real.
To make sure I wasn't dreaming.
The next morning, Lily woke me up.
She was standing by the couch, holding a drawing.
"I made this for you," she said.
It was a picture of the three of us.
This time, the man had a face.
My face.
Or at least, her version of it.
"Thank you," I said. "It's beautiful."
"Can we go to your house now?" she asked. "Mommy said you have a big house with a roof perfect for stargazing."
I looked at Maya.
She nodded.
"She can go with you whenever you're ready," she said. "Cara packed her things weeks ago. She knew you'd say yes."
That afternoon, I brought my daughter home.
She walked into my house like she owned the place.
Like she'd been here a hundred times.
She went straight to the bedroom.
She looked at the empty side of the closet.
"Mommy's clothes should go there," she said simply.
And then she went to the other side.
"And mine can go here."
She didn't seem sad.
Not really.
Cara had prepared her well.
She'd explained that Mommy was going to live among the stars.
That she'd always be watching.
That Daddy would come take care of her.
Lily accepted it all with the simple faith of a child.
Over the next few weeks, I learned everything about her.
She hated broccoli but loved spinach.
She slept with a stuffed owl named Apollo.
She wanted to be an astronaut when she grew up.
She was brilliant.
And funny.
And kind.
And she was mine.
Maya stayed close.
She helped me navigate everything.
The first day of school.
The first doctor's appointment.
The first time Lily had a nightmare and cried for her mommy.
But there were still so many questions.
So many things I didn't understand.
One evening, Maya brought over a box.
"Cara wanted you to have this," she said.
It was full of journals.
Cara's journals.
Ten years of them.
"She wrote every day," Maya said. "About her life. About the disease. About Lily. About you."
She paused.
"There's something else," she said. "Something Cara didn't put in the letter. Something about the night she left. The fight you two had… it wasn't real, Ethan. She staged it. She picked a fight on purpose. So you'd be angry. So it would be easier for her to leave."
I stared at her.
The fight that had haunted me for ten years.
The argument I'd replayed in my head a million times.
Wondering what I could have said differently.
Wondering if I'd pushed her away.
It had all been a lie.
And there was something else in her eyes.
Something she wasn't telling me.
"There's more, isn't there?" I asked.
May you like
Maya nodded slowly.
"Cara didn't just find out about the disease that day," she said. "She found out something else. About her mother. About the disease. Something that changed everything."
