This year he is a father. This year he is in love, with his baby. I've seen his excitement before.
Walking through the house I slowly follow his lead, taking in, all that I can around us. His home feels foreign as his intimate voice echoes off the tile floor. He sure looks the same, causing that old and loyal ache to surge my heart.
Then, there she is. The baby we will never have. I swallow hard as he leans over the playpen's wooden edge and gently lifts her high, but the child is staring at me. He giggles with pride as she bears her blue eyes into mine. His daughter is beholding me as if she knows. She feels, what we are trying to hide.
Instinctively I take her in my arms and she glides into the fold of my elbow. Her warm body exposes those years of loss, pulling tears into my eyes. "Look at that" he says with complete surprise. "She doesn't usually let people hold her."
The tiny little girl lingers all her concentration on me, as I begin to wonder.
"What would she say if she came home and saw me holding her?"
"Nothin. Probably just start screaming."
