Barbara kept stirring her coffee.
“No.”
Eric stared at her.
“You’re my mother.”
“Exactly.”
Then he noticed Chloe sleeping nearby.
His expression changed.
For once, nobody rushed to make things easier for him.
Nobody invited him closer.
Nobody explained what to say.
He stood there looking at his daughter.
Finally, he asked, “Can I hold her?”
I studied him.
“When did you last ask about her breathing treatments?”
His mouth opened.
Then closed.
“I don’t know.”
I let the silence remain.
“You can learn how to be her father,” I said. “But you cannot step into that role only when it feels convenient.”
He nodded.
“I know.”
I lifted Chloe carefully and placed her in his arms.
He looked terrified.
“Support her head,” I said.
“I know.”
Barbara made a quiet sound.
“Clearly, we aren’t assuming anything anymore.”
Even Eric managed a tired half-smile.
Nothing transformed overnight.
