I needed, just for a minute, to know she’s still my Sofie.
I rub my hand down my face. I’ve gotta stop thinking that shit—she’s right in what she says. This isn’t about us, not really. This is about our daughter, our baby girl.
“I’ll take you home,” I say, nudging her in the direction of the truck. She shuffles toward it with her shoulders hunched and her arms wrapped around herself.
It hurts me to see her hurting this badly. It slices through me. But she fucking should feel it. She should feel the pain I’m feeling.
I still can’t believe she kept my daughter from me. And I don’t buy her reason—not entirely. There’s more to it than just what she’s telling me.
I get in the truck after her and pull away from my house. There isn’t a part of me that gives a shit that my brothers were watching from the porch or that they heard me tell her I’m still in love with her. They know that shit.
They know I loved her when she was seven and fell off the rocks into the sea. They know I loved her when she was thirteen and used to spend hours swinging from the tire swing in our yard. And they know I loved her when I finally grew some balls and kissed her at her graduation in front of the whole damn town.
My heart is thudding as I pull up outside her house. I flex my fingers around the steering wheel, my palms sweaty. I’ve never been so damn nervous in my life, and it’s a quick switch from the anger of only ten minutes ago.
But my daughter is in there. The daughter I never knew about . . . And I’m about to meet her for the first time.
“Are you ready?” Sofie asks quietly, tucking her blonde hair behind her ear.
I lick my lips. “How the fuck is anyone supposed to be ready for this?”
“Fair enough,” she answers, a hint of amusement breaking through in her words.
She pushes the door open before I can reply and gets out of the car. Despite the shaking of my hands, I follow her. Shit, I feel like a kid going to kindergarten for the first time. No performance, no matter the size of the audience, has ever shaken me up like this. I’ve never been so afraid in my life.
“Wait here, just for a second, okay?” she says softly, resting her hand on the door.
I want to tell her no. I’ve waited long enough for this. But I nod.
Sofie pushes the door open and walks in. “Lei?” she calls.
My sister appears in the hallway. “What’s up?”
“Did you two have fun?”
“Yeah, Mama! Yeah!” a tiny voice replies. My heart pounds once. Loudly. Mila.
“We had a great time, didn’t we, Mila?” Lei says with a grin. “We’re best buddies.”
“A new friend?” Sofie gasps happily and holds her arms out at her sides. “Yay!”
Tiny giggles filter through the hallway. Goose bumps spread across my skin.
“Hey, baby girl?” Sofie says, squatting. “Where’s Dolly?”
“No no.”
“Go find her, okay?”
“Yeah, Mama.”
I watch as Sofie stands and runs her fingers through her hair. Her lips move but I can’t hear what she’s saying. I can guess, though, if the way my sister’s face snaps toward mine is any indication. Lei nods, hugging Sofie quickly, and walks toward me.
“She’s amazing,” she whispers, resting her hand against my arm. “Don’t go too hard on Sofie.”
My eyes cut to her. “She kept her from me. I love you, sis, but me and Sofie is something you need to keep your nose out of. I know that’s a hard concept for you, but give it a shot, okay?”
“Bite me.” She narrows her eyes.
I put my keys in her hand. “Drive my car home, will you? I’m not leaving this house until I’m dragged out by the fuckin’ cops.”
Leila smiles and leaves wordlessly. I look up, straight into Sofie’s eyes. She nods, and I step into the house.
“Mila!” she calls. “Did you find Dolly?”
“Yeah, Mama!”
My eyes widen as this tiny person toddles in, clutching a soft-bodied doll. Her hair is dark and unruly like mine, her eyes wide and almost indigo blue, exactly like mine, but her smile isn’t. The smile stretching her face is wholly her mommy’s, the exact smile Sofie’s smiled at me so many times.
“Good job, smart cookie!” Sofie bends down and holds up a hand. Mila taps it in a high five, and I melt. I fucking melt.
“I have someone I want you to meet. Are you gonna be nice?”
“My nice,” she lisps.
“Okay. Are you ready?”
Mila nods.
Sofie stands and steps to the side, her eyes finding me, but all I see is the little girl staring at me. The little eyes widening, the wide smile growing, the tiny hands clapping. All I feel is the grin forming on my face and the adrenaline rushing through my veins.
Shit. I helped make this beautiful kid.
“Dadda?” Mila asks, looking between me and Sofie.
My eyes sting with wetness. She knows me. She actually fucking knows me.
“Hey, little girl,” I say, looking at her. “Can I get a cuddle?”
Mila flaps her arms excitedly and toddles toward me. With her arms extended, she runs into mine, and I wrap them around her tiny body. I bury my face into her mass of curls, breathing in her sweet baby smell.
“Dadda Dadda Dadda,” she babbles, kicking her legs and giggling her little head off.
“That’s me,” I confirm, squeezing her tighter.
I take a deep, shaky breath. I’ve achieved all my dreams. I’ve performed in front of thousands, recorded two hit albums, and climbed the Billboard charts, but nothing compares to this. Nothing will ever beat this moment, the feeling of holding my baby girl in my arms for the first time.
It’s months too late. Hell, it’s more than a year too late, but it doesn’t matter right now. Maybe tomorrow it will, maybe even in three hours it will, but right now she’s mine and I’m holding her.
Mila keeps giggling, kicking, and squealing, oblivious to how hard I’m shaking.
I squeeze Mila and glance up at Sofie. Her light blue eyes are shining, tears streaming down her cheeks. Her hand is covering her mouth, and the moment our gazes find each other, my heart beats with a painful reminder of what could have been.
Of how this moment should have been.
Because she’s right and she’s wrong.
It’s about Mila. First and foremost it’s about Mila, but it’s about us, too.
Because without us, there is no her.