Charlotte and I spend the afternoon at the children’s museum. She loves exploring the hands-on exhibits. There’s another family with a little girl—she must be around two—who seems to decide she likes Charlotte. She follows her around and it doesn’t take long before Charlotte is talking to her and showing her things. They spend time in the big market play area, carrying shopping baskets and pretending to buy play food.

I get a little choked up seeing Charlotte interact with the toddler. For one, Charlotte’s actually talking to another child. Granted, the girl is a lot smaller than she is, which might explain her ease. But I’ve never seen her this relaxed in a crowded place before. The other kids brushing past her don’t seem to bother her at all.

But it also makes me wonder if Charlotte is always going to be an only child.

Melanie and I didn’t plan on getting pregnant when we did. Our lives were so busy. I was nervous about being a father; I wasn’t sure I was ready. But from the moment Charlotte was born, I was completely, totally, and utterly in love with her.

It’s hard to explain how much your life changes the first time you see your child. She was this tiny, perfect little thing—completely innocent. And so fragile. It took me a few days to get over the fear that I was going to hurt her when I held her. But then I held her all the time. Every chance I got. Melanie never had to ask me to take the baby so she could have a break. I was always right there, ready to scoop her up. I couldn’t get enough of her.

And then, all too soon, it was just the two of us.

Charlotte was what got me through those dark days after Melanie died. I knew I had to stay strong for her. I couldn’t let grief overtake me. She gave me a reason to keep going.

There’s an odd juxtaposition between my personal life and my career. Professionally, I’m exactly where I always planned to be. I knew in high school that I’d go into medicine, and by the end of my first year as an undergrad, I was set on trauma surgery. That part of my life went as planned.

My personal life, though? None of it is what I thought it would be. When I was dating in college, I always kept it casual. I didn’t plan to put any energy into a serious relationship. I figured I’d save marriage and family for my thirties, when my career was established. Then Melanie swooped into my life, and a year later, I was married. We didn’t plan to have kids right away, but next thing I knew, I had Charlotte. And I certainly didn’t plan on being a single father, raising my baby girl on my own.

But here I am, a single dad with a six-year-old girl. I never would have guessed this would be where I’d end up.

I have no regrets about Charlotte. If I had to do it over again, I’d still get married. I’d live through the pain of losing Melanie if it meant I could have Charlotte in my life. I wouldn’t give her up for anything.

Charlotte and the little girl wander over to an area with toy trains. I make eye contact with the toddler’s parents and smile as we follow our kids. They smile back, and the mom rests her hand on her obviously pregnant belly. I stand off to the side, hands in my pockets, and watch while Charlotte plays.

My mind wanders and I imagine being here with Linnea. I know I’m crazy as soon as I think it, but I picture her rubbing a round belly. Pregnant with my baby.

I feel guilty for daydreaming about her that way. She has her own hopes and dreams for the future. Saddling her with a baby when she’s still so young would change the course of her life. I know she likes kids, and she’s such a natural with Charlotte. But she has her music career to think about. Sometimes I feel like Charlotte and I are only borrowing her for a little while.

And if things did go that far between us, and we did have a baby together, it would be both Charlotte’s sibling and her cousin. God, we sound like hillbillies or something.

I’m questioning whether I should have let things happen between us the way they did. Is it selfish of me to want to be with her? I feel things when I’m with her that, quite honestly, I wasn’t sure I’d ever feel again. My attempts at dating in the last couple of years left me convinced I’d never fall in love again. That I’d had my chance, and it was over. You don’t get that twice.

But I’m falling for Linnea, hard and fast. And I still don’t know if I should be.

The little girl’s parents tell her it’s time to go. She makes a pouty face, but complies when they tell her to thank Charlotte for playing. They thank me too, and we all say goodbye.

“You ready for a snack?” I ask.

Charlotte takes my hand. “Yep. I’m hungry.”

There’s a large food court with a variety of restaurants in the same building as the museum, so we head upstairs. We decide on bagels and take our snack to a table.

I need to talk to Charlotte about Linnea. I wasn’t going to right away—not because I want to hide it from her, but when I said dating Linnea would be complicated, I wasn’t kidding. I haven’t needed to have a conversation like this with my daughter before.

But Charlotte is nothing if not observant. She probably knows more than I realize, and she obviously noticed that Linnea spent the night in my room. She might not understand it—and there’s only so much detail she needs at this age. The problem is, I’m not sure exactly what to tell her. Things between me and Linnea are so new—so unexplored. I feel like I’m rushing us into something serious because we’re already close. Because in so many ways, Linnea is already a part of our little family. But that isn’t fair to Linnea, and I don’t want to give Charlotte the wrong idea.

“How’s your bagel?” I ask.

“It’s yummy,” she says.

“Good,” I say. “Bug, do you know what it means when people are dating?”

“Yes,” she says.

“What does that mean?”

She puts her bagel down and purses her lips like she does when she’s thinking. “That’s when grown-ups like each other and they kiss each other.”

I smile. “Yeah, that’s about right. How would it make you feel if I said that Daddy and Linnea are dating?”

“Are you going to get married?” she asks.

There’s a yes sitting right on the tip of my tongue. It should freak me the hell out that it would be so easy to say it. “I don’t know. People usually need a long time to decide something big like that.”

“Is she still going to take care of me when you’re at work?” she asks.

“Yes.”

She looks down at her half-eaten bagel and I can tell she’s wrestling with something. I stay quiet and give her time to think.

“Did you love my mom?” she asks.

Her question catches me completely off guard. She rarely asks about Melanie. I’ve always been open about her mom—shown her pictures, and talked about how much Melanie loved her. About a year ago, she wanted to know how her mom died, and I told her about the car accident. Since then, she hasn’t asked about her again.

“Yes, Bug. I loved your mom very much.”

“Do you still love a person when they’re dead?” she asks.

“Yes, you do,” I say. “I still love your mom. I always will. Are you worried that if I love someone else, it will mean I don’t love your mom anymore?”

“No,” she says.

“Then what’s bothering you?” I ask.

“Did you love my mom and me at the same time?” she asks.

“Yes, of course I did. I loved you as soon as you were born. That didn’t change how I felt about your mom. It made me love her more because she gave me the best gift. She gave me you.”

“Okay.”

I brush a few tangles out of her hair. “Are you worried that if I love someone else, I won’t love you as much?”

She nods without looking at me.

“Oh, Bug.” I scoop her up out of her chair and into my lap. For a long moment, I just hold her. She wraps her arms around my neck and I rub slow circles across her back. “Nothing will ever change how much I love you. Nothing in the entire world.”

I move her so she’s sitting and I can look at her face. “Listen, sweetheart. Love doesn’t have limits. It’s as big as we want it to be. Do you remember the Grinch movie, when his heart grows bigger?”

“Yeah.”

“Love is like that,” I say. “Before I met your mom, I loved my family. Loving your mom didn’t make me love them less, it just made my heart bigger. And when you were born it got so big, I wasn’t sure it was going to fit inside my ribs anymore.”

She pokes my chest and giggles.

“Loving someone new just makes your heart grow,” I say. “So if I love someone else—someone like Linnea—it just means I have more love in my heart. And you still made my heart the biggest.”

“I think you should marry Linnea and then I can have her as my mom,” she says.

I hug her again to give me a second for the lump in my throat to go down. This kid is killing me today. “Well, it’s too soon to think about that. Daddy and Linnea are… we’re special friends now. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah,” she says. “Can I finish my bagel?”

I kiss her forehead and scoot her back into her chair. “Yes, you can finish your bagel.”

After we eat, we take a little walk. It’s chilly outside, but we have coats, and it’s not raining. Charlotte asks me questions, but they’re the usual for her—things like why does that bird have a blue head and what makes some clouds gray and other clouds white. No more questions about her mom, or love, or Linnea.

I’m glad she doesn’t seem to mind the idea of Linnea and me dating. Her comment about marrying her leaves me with a poignant mix of relief and sadness. I like knowing that it would make Charlotte happy to have Linnea be a permanent part of her life. But it’s a reminder that she does indeed feel the loss of her mother.

I’ve never wanted to be with a woman just to replace Melanie for Charlotte. I certainly don’t want to think of Linnea that way. If I do get married again, how Charlotte feels about her will of course be a consideration. But I’m not looking for a mom-substitute for my daughter. That kind of expectation wouldn’t be fair to her, or to me.

But… would Linnea want that? I know she loves Charlotte. There’s no question about that. But loving your niece and the little girl you watch almost every day is one thing. Marrying her father and taking on the role of mother is a much bigger deal.

I shouldn’t be thinking about this so soon. I took Linnea out for the first time a week ago. But I guess any single parent is going to view a relationship in terms of its future potential. We have to. We’ve kind of been there, done that. There’s not a lot of room for casual when there’s a child involved.

It’s good that I talked to Bug, but I’m still torn about Linnea. I guess the answer is to give it time. Let things unfold. I can’t deny I’m falling in love with her. I just can’t get over the feeling that our lives are on different paths, and it’s inevitable that they’re going to diverge.