And the man who’d told another woman he hated me.
“I don’t know yet,” I answered.
“But I know I’m not giving up my career, my independence, or my voice to make
this easier for you.”
I’d already packed a bag earlier that afternoon.
Dad carried Sophie’s car seat to the driveway.
Mom took the diaper bag.
I carried our daughter.
At the door, Eve stopped me.
Her eyes were filled with tears.
“Maddie, I had no idea.”
“I know.”
She looked down at Sophie.
“Please don’t shut us out of her life.”
I hugged her.
“You’re her grandmother, Eve. That doesn’t change.”
She began crying harder.
I held her for a moment.
Then I walked outside.
Elon never came to the door.
At my parents’ house, Mom had already prepared my childhood bedroom.
The wallpaper still had the same little blue flowers.
A portable crib stood beside the bed.
I placed Sophie inside.
She stretched, made a tiny sound, and fell asleep.
Then I sat on the mattress.
Mom entered carrying two cups of chamomile tea.
She sat beside me.
For
a long time, neither of us spoke.
Finally, she asked,
“How long have you known?”
“Six days.”
She shook her head.
“Oh, sweetheart.”
I tried to answer.
But the tears came before the words.
I cried harder than I had at any point that week.
Mom wrapped her arms around me.
And for the first time since Sophie’s birth, I let someone else hold me together.
The following morning, my phone showed fourteen missed calls from Elon.
There were messages too.
“Please call me.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I ended things with Sierra.”
“I don’t want to lose you.”
“I don’t want to lose Sophie.”
I read them.
Then I placed the phone in a drawer.
I went downstairs.
Dad was standing at the stove making pancakes shaped like Mickey Mouse.
“For the baby,” he announced.
I looked at him.
“Dad, she’s three months old.”
He thought about that.
“Then these are
for you.”
For the first time in days, I laughed without forcing it.
Later that morning, I called Gloria.
I told her what had happened at the anniversary dinner.
She listened carefully.
Then she said,
“Well, that was certainly one way to have the conversation.”
“Was it a mistake?”
“It wasn’t a legal strategy,” she answered. “But you have an admission, and you made it clear that your daughter isn’t something you’re using for revenge.”
