I remembered calling him.
I remembered
wanting him there.
I remembered my mother saying he had finally shown up.
But did I remember seeing him?
A headache began behind my eyes.
“Claire,” Priya said gently, “did you have complications during delivery?”
“Yes.”
“What kind?”
“I lost consciousness.”
“For how long?”
“I don’t know. Several hours.”
“And who was making medical decisions while you were unconscious?”
“My mother.”
“Anyone else?”
I shook my head.
Then stopped.
There had been someone.
A man in a dark jacket talking to a nurse in the hallway.
I had only seen him for a second before they wheeled me toward surgery.
At the time, I assumed he was hospital staff.
But now, suddenly, I could see his profile.
The heavy brow.
The silver hair.
Richard.
Tyler’s father.
My breath caught.
“I saw him.”
“Who?”
“Tyler’s father.”
Priya went still.
“At the hospital?”
“I think so.”
“When Mason was born?”
“Yes.”
you hadn’t met Tyler yet?”
I stared at her.
“That’s what I thought.”
The bookstore door opened.
Mason came running toward us holding a book about famous airplanes.
Behind him, Vanessa carried another book.
This one was about trains.
Mason reached the table.
“Mom.”
I tried to arrange my face into something normal.
“What?”
“I picked one for Elliot.”
I looked at the train book.
“You did?”
“Yeah.”
He hesitated.
“Do you think I’ll meet him?”
The question cut through every legal document, every lie, every adult fear.
I pulled him into my arms.
“I think we’re going to figure out the safest way to answer all of these questions.”
He leaned against me.
Then he whispered, “I don’t want another dad.”
I closed my eyes.
“You don’t have to decide anything today.”
“I just want you.”
That nearly broke me.
I held him tighter.
“You have me.”
the first time since Tyler’s announcement filled the airplane cabin, something inside me became clear.
I could lose my marriage.
I could lose the house.
I could discover that half my past was fabricated.
But I would not let Mason lose the certainty that he belonged somewhere.
