Chapter 23
You woke up.
The marriage was still over.
You went to work.
The marriage was still over.
You picked up your daughter.
The marriage was still over.
You learned to make bottles.
You learned ponytails later.
You attended preschool orientation.
You stood beside the woman you once betrayed while your daughter sang too loudly at a Christmas program.
Life continued.
That was the consequence.
It continued without restoring the old arrangement simply because Adam finally understood its value.
Bernice stayed in Marina’s life.
Not as an employee.
As something closer to family.
Every March 1, she received a photograph of Nell.
On Nell’s first birthday, Marina invited her to the small party.
Adam came early to help hang paper decorations.
Rachel brought cupcakes.
Carol arrived carrying the yellow blanket she had repaired after Nell snagged one corner.
Elise brought balloons.
There were no elaborate decorations.
No expensive venue.
Just Marina’s living room filled with people who had shown up.
At one point Bernice found Adam alone in the kitchen washing cake from plastic plates.
“You got good at dishes,” she said.
Adam looked over.
“I had a strict teacher.”
Bernice smiled.
He dried his hands.
“I was angry at you that day.”
“I remember.”
“When you showed me the notebook.”
“I remember that too.”
“I thought you hated me.”
Bernice considered this.
“I barely knew you.”
“That somehow feels worse.”
“It should.”
Adam laughed quietly.
Bernice leaned against the counter.
“You’re a good father now.”
The compliment landed heavily.
“Thank you.”
“Don’t turn it into a tragedy.”
He frowned.
“What?”
“You have a habit of making things about your regret.”
Adam glanced toward the living room.
Marina was kneeling beside Nell, helping her pull tissue paper from a gift bag.
“What should I make it about?”
Bernice followed his gaze.
“Her birthday.”
Adam smiled.
“Right.”
He carried the plates back into the room.
Later, Nell became overwhelmed and began crying.
Marina reached for her.
So did Adam.
They stopped.
Adam smiled.
“You take her.”
Marina shook her head.
“She’s been asking for Daddy all afternoon.”
The word hit him somewhere deep.
He lifted Nell.
She pressed her damp face into his shoulder.
Adam carried her toward the window.
“Too much birthday?” he whispered.
Nell sniffled.
“Cake.”
“You already had cake.”
“More cake.”
He laughed.
From across the room, Marina watched them.
There was affection in her face.
Real affection.
But it was no longer the old kind.