Chapter 2
The next morning, Daniel acted as if nothing had happened.
He set a mug of coffee beside me while I packed Lily’s lunch.
“I’ll be home late. Don’t wait for me.”
“She has the science fair tonight.”
He paused.
“You’ll be there, right?”
I looked up.
“She wants you there.”
“I have work, Emma. If I can make it, I will.”
I had heard that sentence before.
At her first ballet performance, he had work.
When another child bullied her at school, he had work.
Whenever someone praised how polite and well behaved she was, Daniel still smiled and said, “I raised her right.”
I stopped arguing.
That evening, Lily kept looking toward the auditorium doors.
“Did Dad say he was coming?”
“He said he’d try.”
She nodded as if she had expected exactly that answer.
Her project was a solar-powered water filter. We had spent three weekends testing it in the kitchen.
When Lily won second place, she ran off the stage and straight into my arms.
“We won!”
I hugged her.
“You won.”
Another parent smiled at us.
“Is she your daughter?”
Before I could answer, Lily said proudly, “She’s my Emma.”
She sounded happy.
The words still hurt.
We got home around nine-thirty.
Daniel was on the couch watching a game.
“How did it go?”
Lily held up her medal.
“Second place.”
“That’s great, sweetheart.”
He kissed her forehead and turned back to the television.
Lily remained beside the couch.
“Do you want to see how the filter works?”
“Not right now. Maybe this weekend.”
Her shoulders dropped.
“Okay.”
That night, while I was washing her hair, Lily asked, “Is Mom a name or a job?”
My hands stopped.
“Why are you asking that?”
“Because my birth mom is my mom, but she doesn’t do mom things. You’re not my mom, but you do them every day.”
I didn’t know how to answer.
A seven-year-old shouldn’t have to untangle something that cruel.
“Mom isn’t only a name,” I said carefully. “It’s also how someone makes you feel—safe, loved, and not alone.”
“Can two people make you feel that way?”
“Of course.”
“Then can I decide what I call them?”
I was about to answer when Daniel appeared in the bathroom doorway.
“Lily, bed.”
His voice was flat.
Lily closed her mouth and looked down.
After she was asleep, Daniel followed me into the hallway.
“You need to stop encouraging this.”
“Encouraging what? Her feelings?”
“You’re teaching her that her mother doesn’t matter.”
“Her mother isn’t here.”
“That doesn’t erase her.”
“I never said it did.”
“Then make it clear that there is only one person Lily should call Mom.”
I stared at him.
“Why are you so determined to defend someone who isn’t even here?”
Daniel’s face changed.
“Don’t talk about her.”
“I’m not asking about her. I’m asking about you.”
“This conversation is over.”
“No. You put an absent woman in the middle of our marriage and expect the rest of us to arrange ourselves around her.”
“She gave birth to Lily.”
“And I raised her.”
Daniel held my gaze for a long moment.
Then he said, slowly and clearly, “You helped take care of her.”
Helped.
Four years of mornings, fevers, school forms, nightmares, and packed lunches.
To him, it was help.
I stopped trying to make him understand.
“Fine.”
He frowned.
“Fine what?”
“If I’m only helping, then starting tomorrow, you can take care of her yourself.”
Sometimes I didn’t know whether Lily depended on me more, or whether I depended on her.
Daniel knew that too.
He gave a short laugh.
“You won’t last two days.”