Greg’s voice broke.
She demanded it for all the years he hadn’t been in Audrey’s life — for all the birthdays missed, the tuition, and the medical bills. Callie did this even though she was the one who had hidden Audrey from him.
Greg was furious! “She’s trying to punish me for her own choices,” he said. “But it’s Audrey who’s going to suffer if this turns into a war!”
He didn’t fight it — not openly. My husband let the lawyers talk. But he stayed focused on Audrey.
Greg was furious!
They began meeting regularly — in coffee shops, bookstores, and the park. He took her to a museum once and told her about the paintings he had loved as a kid. She soaked it up like sunlight.
The first time he brought her over to our house, Lila watched her from behind the curtains.
Audrey was nervous. So was I. But Lila, in that beautiful 11-year-old way, ran up to her with a plate of cookies and said, “You look like my dad.”
Audrey smiled. “I’ve been told that.”
Audrey smiled.
And that was it. They spent the rest of the afternoon building a gingerbread house together.
One night, after the girls had gone to bed, Greg and I sat on the couch, the photo of Audrey — the first one — sitting on the mantle.
“I never thought our life would look like this,” he said.
“Neither did I,” I replied.
He turned to me, his voice soft. “Are you angry with me?”
“No,” I said honestly. “You didn’t choose this. But you’re choosing what comes next. And that’s what matters.”
And that was it.
He leaned over and rested his head on my shoulder. “I love you,” he whispered.
“I know.”
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