I look at her, still a little scared, but with no reason to be. I have her in my arms—even if only for a short time.
— Hi, Sara. It's Mommy, I say to my little girl.
She smiles at me and claps her tiny hands.
I see Eduardo smiling as he drives, and all I want is to thank him in every possible way.
— Isn't it kind of silly to say that to her? I mean… she knows I'm her mom, right?
It's the only thing I can think to say, and immediately I remember that woman referring to herself as Sara's mother.
— Of course she knows. And don't worry about Amanda, Malia, he says, his expression hardening. — I'll make sure she never does that again.
— You know her? I mean… not that it's any of my business, I say, not wanting to interfere in his life.
— You can ask me anything, Malia. I'll always be honest with you, he says, smiling again. — Amanda is my niece, and she shouldn't have been there.
— Oh… I see.
That's all I manage to say before my daughter pulls my attention back to her.
She's cheerful, and that alone fills me with relief. I always feared that so little contact would make her see me as a stranger.
— Malia, I'm going to stop at a mall so we can get everything she needs for a few hours on the road, Eduardo says, keeping his eyes on the busy avenue, which, luckily, isn't congested.
— I didn't bring much money, I admit, a little embarrassed.
He just smiles softly.
— Don't worry. I'll take care of you both now.
For a brief moment, my heart races.
How could it not? A handsome man is driving me around, he just granted me my greatest wish—even if only for a little while—and now he's saying I'm his responsibility. Not just me, but my daughter too.
Despite all the questions I've asked myself since he said he wanted me as his wife, this is the first time I wonder what would happen if I fell in love.
But that thought slips away like water when my daughter lets out a bright laugh, the wind from the open window tickling her face.
I start playing with her, letting her laughter fill the empty spaces inside me, and I don't even notice when Eduardo pulls into an underground parking lot.
— We're here. Ready? Eduardo asks as he gets out of the car.
I adjust my daughter in my arms so I can step out, but before I can, Eduardo opens my door, smiling gently at me.
— Thank you.
— Don't thank me, he says, locking the car. — Did you tell your parents, Malia? That we're going to visit them?
For a moment, I freeze, looking at him nervously.
— Actually… no.
He watches me, then nods for me to continue. He doesn't seem angry or upset—just as relaxed as he was a moment ago.
— They don't know anything about what happened to me. The last time we spoke was when Sara was born, and none of… all that had happened yet.
— So they have no idea what you've been through? he asks, and I nod. — You know you'll have to tell them sooner or later. They probably still think you're with your ex-husband, and they'll ask questions about me when I show up with you.
— I know. I just… didn't do it before because I was afraid. I was alone, and I thought that if I told them, it might push them away… I don't know what I would've done, Eduardo, I admit, that fear still lingering inside me. — But now, with my daughter in my arms, it feels like everything I need is right here. Do you understand?
— Of course I do, Malia, he says, a sincere smile forming on his lips.
— Don't worry. You'll have my support when you tell them. Unless you'd rather do it alone.
— I don't mind telling them in front of you, I say honestly.
— That's good. Now let's move, because it's a bit strange to just stand here talking in the parking lot, he says with a laugh.
I like him like this—relaxed.
We walk to the elevator, and soon we're moving through the wide corridors of the mall.
— Diapers… does she still use bottles? We need a car seat, comfortable clothes, and a humidifier—we'll be in the car for hours, and I don't want her to feel suffocated, Eduardo says, then suddenly stops in the middle of the mall, checking his watch. — We need to be quick, or we'll arrive too late at your parents' house. It's better if we split up. You go get bottles, diapers, some clothes, and anything else a baby needs—you're the mom, you'll know.
He starts going through his wallet, flipping through his cards.
— I'll get the car seat and the humidifier. It'll be faster this way. Here—He hands me a card.— The PIN is 0001… yeah, I know, I own banks and still suck at passwords. Great. I'm heading off. Let's meet in an hour at the food court. That should be enough.
I stand there, stunned, trying to process everything he just said—filtering it, organizing it—while holding his Black Gold card in my hand, mortified.
I feel a kiss on my forehead.
I don't even have time to react—not until he's already far enough away for me to form a sentence.
— But…
I try to say something, but no one hears me.
— Sweetheart, do you think your future stepdad might be a little crazy? Because I have no idea what just happened, I say, looking at the spot where he disappeared.