Sucking in a hard breath I grab the envelope and rip it open before I have a chance to talk myself out of it. Odessa watches, barely breathing, as my eyes scan the letter.
I don’t read the whole thing. I don’t have to. The words “excluded” and “zero probability” are in bold.
My knees threaten to buckle, my heart hammering in my chest. The bathroom is hot. Spinning.
“Beckham…” Odessa rushes to me, slipping her arms under mine. “It’s okay. It’s okay. You’re going to be okay.”
I push her away, gripping the edge of the bathroom counter until I can catch my breath.
“Want me to get Sadie?” Odessa places a hand on my shoulder.
“I need a minute, okay?”
Her hand falls, but she hasn’t left. “You are her father, Beckham. It doesn’t matter what the test says. You’re the one who stepped in when she had no one else. You were there since the moment she took her first breath, and you haven’t left her side once.”
Questions silently ricochet. If I’m not her father, who is? What if Eva changes her mind? What if the judge decides to place her in foster care?
An unexpected calm washes over me. I have to be strong. I have to fight. There’s no other choice.
If not for me, then for my daughter.
EPILOGUE
ODESSA
2 years later…
“Look at the monkeys, Sadie!”
My mom points toward an enclosure filled with orangutans and Sadie squeals, her dark pigtails bopping as she runs. The Central Park Zoo is extra sparse today, and it’s a balmy seventy-five degrees. Public schools are back in session so that means we almost have the whole place to ourselves.
I push her empty stroller, a handful of steps behind Beckham. A month into my third trimester, it’s getting a little harder to keep up with everyone.
Beck turns around, “You doing okay?”
With one hand cupping my bulbous belly I smile and nod. “She’s kicking extra hard today.”
“It’s the apple juice you drank this morning,” Mom calls back. “All that sugar.”
Sadie scampers up to the railing by the orangutans and Beckham comes up behind, scooping her up and depositing her on his shoulders so she can see. He’s a good dad, and he doesn’t give himself nearly enough credit.
Beckham holds her by the knees, ensuring she won’t fall off his shoulders should she decide to get wiggly. At times, he’s overly protective of her, but I can’t blame him. In the back of his mind, he’s still terrified something’s going to happen to her. Something beyond his control.
A powerless Beckham is a dangerous Beckham, despite the fact that he’s softened just a tad over the last two years.
I park the stroller and waddle toward them. Mom is reading off the nearby plaque, telling Sadie what orangutans eat and all about their native habitats. Dad would’ve loved to be here, but I know he’s here in spirit.
“You excited for tomorrow?” Beckham crouches down to ask.
I glance up at a grinning Sadie and nod. Tomorrow she becomes my daughter. Legally. Beckham and I married eight months ago in a civil ceremony. My parents were here, and my siblings, and his best friend, Xavier. Dane and Bellamy came too. After the ceremony, we had a private dinner at one of the swankiest restaurants in the city and set off for an Italian honeymoon.
Leaving Sadie for the first time was hard, but knowing she was with my mom made it easier to stomach.
“Can’t wait.” I hook my hand into his elbow.
“Mama!” Sadie points to one of the monkeys swinging from a makeshift branch. “Look!”
“I see that,” I say, adding extra excitement in my tone. I’ll never get tired of seeing the world through her eyes.
Almost two years ago to the day, a family court judge agreed that Sadie could stay with Beckham and that he could start the process to formally adopt her. Every so often we expect Eva to show up out of nowhere, demanding to see her and declaring she had a change of heart, but the last we knew, Eva had moved out of the city and back to Argentina when she met her match in some Chilean doctor.
When Eva relinquished her rights to Sadie, she went on record as saying Sadie’s father was an anonymous sperm donor, even going so far as to provide the donor number, which we matched up with a private, sperm donor registry based out of upstate New York.
“I’m ready for it to be official,” I say. “Can’t help but feel she was always supposed to be mine.”
Beckham lifts Sadie from his shoulders, placing her gently on the ground until she bolts off toward my mom. Turning to me, he takes my hand and gives it a good squeeze.
“And you,” I say. “You were always supposed to be mine too.”