Swear on everything I’ve ever cared about, my daughter hugging my neck and telling me she loves me is the most amazing feeling on this earth. It’s everything I never knew I wanted, yet everything I ever needed, all at once.

The feeling punching around in my chest is like nothing I have ever felt before—it’s sadness, joy, hope, elation, and reverence, all rolled into one. That this kid could truly accept and love me is the greatest gift I’ve ever been given.

When Tatum finally draws back from our embrace, she touches the tip of her little button nose to mine and places her palms flat on my cheeks. “You really my daddy?”

I nod, my throat too clogged with emotion to attempt to speak.

“And you wub me? Forever?” More nodding. “Den where you been all my life?”

Her questions cause an ache all the way down to my soul—dammit, Natalie. “I…” my voice is gravelly. “I was away…studying and working…on becoming the best man I could be so that I’d be worthy of being your daddy.”

She studies me for a minute, and I swear she’s, at all of three years old, about to call me on my shit. But instead, she snuggles in close to my chest again, nestling her head beneath mine. “Okay…Daddy.”

We stay just as we are for a few more quiet minutes before she pulls away again. “I’s still hungry. You got ice cream?”

I shake my head and smile. Damn, toddlers are resilient. “You know what, I think I do. Wait here, and I’ll go find your mama, and we’ll scoop up some ice cream.”

My girl nods and moves back to her chair, helping herself to another slice of pizza. For such a small thing, the kid really can put away some food.

I walk into the kitchen, fully expecting to see Natalie. What I’m met with though, is completely different. The door leading to the porch is ajar, and drifting in on the breeze is the sound of Nat breaking down. Her tears and sobs and sorrow are so visceral, it’s almost as if I’m the one experiencing them. I can feel just how much she regrets the decisions that led us here. I once accused her of being selfish, but the reality is, she is anything but. She was a scared kid who didn’t fully comprehend the ramifications of the decision she made.

I shouldn’t stand here and listen to her pour her heart out like this, but I’m a shit, because I do. I listen to every word until I hear her end the call. I let a few seconds pass, and then I step outside and join her.

“You okay, Nat?”

The smile she aims my way is watery. “Yeah. Totally fine.”

I don’t bother calling her on it. Instead, I extend a hand down and haul her to standing. “Our princess is requesting ice cream.”

“Oh, well, we better—”

Natalie doesn’t have the chance to finish her sentence because a very impatient Tatum bursts through the doorway, joining us.

“I want ice cre—you have a pool!”

We both snicker at her abrupt subject change. “Yes, I do.”

“I lub swimming!”

“Tater Tot, you don’t know how to swim.”

Totally undeterred, she stops her little foot. “So! I still lub it! It’s like a really super big bathtub, and baths are da best!”

I wink at Natalie. “Girl’s got a point. Y’all will have to come over and swim soon before the temperature drops.”

“Yes! Please, Mama! Please, can we?”

“Of course, baby. Alden—your dad and I will figure out a date, okay?”

“Okay! Now we can has ice cream?”

“No,” I gently correct her, “we can have ice cream. Not has.”

Tatum gives her mama an eye roll worthy of a teenager. “Fine. Can we have ice cream? I fink I might die without it!”

I snort at her antics. If she’s this dramatic now, I can only imagine her at thirteen. “Yeah, kiddo, let’s head inside. I have chocolate, vanilla, and chocolate chip cookie dough.”

“Dat one! I want dat one!”