When they come to see me again a few days later, Mac, Carey, and Hazel are wearing angel wings. The other patients at the clinic smile when they see the littlest miracle. She’s such a sweetheart. Admittedly, I may be a little biased. To me, she’s the greatest girl in the world. Very closely followed by her mom.

When she sees where I am, Hazel comes running to throw herself into my arms. She’s not the least bit scared of me. It would kill me if she was, too. My perfect little girl.

“Are you an angel?” I ask her.

She nods. “Daddy angel, too.”

“I don’t have wings.”

She looks confused before Carey says, “I brought you some, man.”

Hazel cheers as Carey hands them to me. Good thing I’m enough of a man I don’t mind wearing angel wings.

I set Hazel on a chair and put on my wings. She claps her hands excitedly. “Daddy angel!”

Mac smiles. “What?” I ask before I kiss her on the lips.

She shrugs. “I love that you can’t turn your daughter down.”

I smile. “You can’t either.”

Carey messes with Hazel, pulling her wings and annoying her. She snorts angrily. Fuck, she’s so cute!

“I know, but I already knew I was crazy.”

“True,” I agree, pretending I’m not the least bit crazy myself.

She laughs. “The wings look good on you, babe.”

Every time she says that word my heart tries to scatter in a million pieces. I’ll always deny that, of course. “Not as good as they look on you.” I lower my voice an octave because I know it drives her crazy. Am I an ass? I can’t help it that my balls nearly burst every time I know she’s horny.

As if on command, her breath stops. It’s that simple. My baby is so easy to have. Only for me, obviously.

“Hunt…”

She sits down next to me and grabs my hand. I love that she wants so much physical contact, that she can’t keep her hands off me.

“Daddy?” Hazel interrupts.

“Yes, babe?”

“Haze won.”

“What did you win?” I ask, though it doesn’t matter. I’m proud of her, no matter if she’s winning or losing. I’ll always be her biggest fan.

“Football.”

“Football? The super bowl?” I tease.

She nods. “Super.”

Carey grins. “Almost, Hazeline.”

“I’m so proud of you,” I say, stroking her head. She turns away a little, obviously happy about the praise, but at the same time a little shy. She is so cute.

“Daddy proud?” she asks, her bottom lip trembling a little.

“Hey, baby, I’ll always be proud of you. I love you so much.”

“Love daddy, too,” she says, hugging my leg. My prosthetic.

It’s such a relief. I wouldn’t be able to live with it if she found it revolting. But it’s no big deal to her. Dad just has some metal there. She holds it just like my other leg, like she can’t tell the difference.

“We have a new generation of football players,” I observe.

“She runs after the ball very enthusiastically at least,” Carey says.

Hazel looks up. “Won,” she corrects him.

Carey holds out a first to her, but she doesn’t know what to do with it. “Make a fist,” I say. When she does, I hold her wrist and push her tiny fist against Carey’s. “Like this. Got it?”

She nods, making a concentrated face, and looks at me. I hold out my fist for her, and she grins, pressing hers against mine. Then against Carey’s. Then mine. Then Carey’s. Mine. Carey’s…

“You brought that upon yourself,” Mac laughs.

But I don’t care. Her uncle is obviously just as crazy as her dad, so she can keep doing it for as long as she likes. But it turns out her attention span isn’t that great, and she finally starts running around the table.

“Does she ever take a break?” I ask, amused.

“No,” Carey and Mac say simultaneously.

Seeing Carey and my two girls is the highlight of my days. I don’t know the last time I was this happy. I’m finding it hard to understand how I could have been so low I actually tried to kill myself.

I will never do anything so stupid again. Both of them—all three of them, actually—are the main reason, but it’s also the fact that I can walk again. That I can do everything on my own again, that I don’t have to rely on other people’s help, that I can take care of myself. And others. I can run after Hazel, pick her up when she falls, play with her and run around with her.

Why did I think life was over for me? I was so stupid. So ridiculously stupid.

What if I’d managed to kill myself and never saw the miracle that is my daughter? That would have been a real tragedy.

And the idea of having more kids with Mac makes me feel ecstatic. I will always regret not being there when she was pregnant with Hazel, but maybe I’ll have another chance…

Hazel runs around the entire visitors’ room, stopping at the people she knows, giving a wide berth to people she doesn’t know. I keep a constant eye on her, and I think Carey does, too. I owe my brother so much!

And then the door opens.

My heart stops when I see it hit her head. She falls backward onto the floor. I know, I know—Mac said she tries to wait and doesn’t rush to help her, but I…I can’t.

I sprint over to her.

Mac is standing, too. So I wasn’t just imagining that this was too much pain for a two-year-old. Carey’s only a foot behind me when I throw myself on the floor behind Hazel. She’s crying. Oh my God, is she crying! My heart hurts so much. My little angel is hurt.

Mac kneels beside us, and Hazel stretches her arms out for her. Mac picks her up, whispering sweet things in her ear. Fuck! I can’t stand it when she’s in pain.

“I’m so sorry,” says a man I don’t know. He opened the door! I want to kill him!

I jump up, but Carey holds me back. I give him a dark look. My mouth may be foaming.

“Hunt, he didn’t do it on purpose!”

“He better not have!” I snarl, fixing my gaze on the asshole.

The man raises both hands. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt her.”

It takes a lot of strength to calm myself. Like, a whole lot. Whoever hurts my baby has to deal with me.

Mac kisses Hazel again before she sets her in my arms. Hazel wraps her little arms around me, and my anger disappears. She’s still crying, but obviously, she’s okay. Luckily for that shithead!

“My poor little girl,” I mumble, carrying her back to our table. I sit down with her, and she sits up. Her forehead is still red, and I blow on it gently.

“Tiss!” she says, her eyes wet with tears. I gently kiss the spot, and slowly, her tears dry up. Mac sits next to us, looking at us closely, a mama bear ready to defend her cub if necessary. But I would never do anything to hurt Hazel. Never.

“Man.” Carey whistles. “You were faster than me.”

And that’s when it hits me. I was faster than Carey. My prosthetic didn’t get in the way when I needed it. Fuck. It feels amazing to know I can actually be a real dad for Hazel. One who can protect her always. One who can catch her when she falls. One who can do the coolest shit with her. Fuck, yeah!

Mac puts her hand on my arm. “Thanks.”

I interlace our fingers. “Any time.”

* * *

When they leave, Mac hands me a laptop and tells me to read and look at her files and emails in chronological order. I’ve been sitting here for twenty minutes now, being such a pussy. All I can do is wonder if I can get through this. The two of them have my heart in their hands.

And then I take a deep breath and click on the first email. Already, I can feel a lump in my throat.

My poor girl. I can feel the despair in every one of her words. My heart hurts, and my eyes fill with tears. The early emails are sad, very sad, even if they are at times loving, angry, and desperate. It’s like I can physically feel how much she suffered. What did I do to her?

I know what she did to me, but what did I do to her? She didn’t deserve this, no matter how much I hated her in that moment. She didn’t deserve that.

In between her desperate letters, I read emails from Carey, who also wrote to me.

Hearing it again from Carey really gets me down. In my own pain, I didn’t realize I was causing her pain, too. And so much of it! A small voice reminds me that back then I was under the impression she was happy… I never wanted her to be unhappy. Never!

And still, I need to accept that I was the source of her pain. How could I do that to her? How could I believe she was happy while I was so unhappy?

I should have known she was suffering like I was, no matter what kind of feelings she had for me. She’d shown me repeatedly that she cared for me. Maybe not as a lover, but definitely as a friend. So why did I think she was happy?

I pull at my hair. I can’t stand the fact that I was so stupid. And all the stuff I missed! God, it’s so much…

I struggle through her emails, and Carey’s, and feel my heart break into a thousand pieces. What have we been doing to each other all these years? It’s enough heartache to turn ten people into emotional wrecks.

At some point, the tone of her emails change.

After that, Mac’s online diary starts. The first picture is of a positive pregnancy test. The second one shows her flat belly. Then she copied a short paragraph explaining how big the baby was at that point. The little peanut…

Good thing I’m alone. Tears stream down my face. I would have felt pretty uncomfortable if I’d read these on base, and the guys had seen me like this. But I don’t even try to stop them now. Because I know there will be so many more.

Her words rip my heart out, throw it on the ground, jump around on it, rip it into shreds, and then put every little piece back together again. Because she does that with this treasure, too.

I cry for what we will never be able to change but relish all the great things she captured for me: Hazel in Mac’s arms just after she was born. Hazel one week later in Carey’s huge hands. Hazel taking her first bath. Hazel with shampoo horns. Hazel taking her first steps, mashing her food, running after Carey, and then Carey running after Hazel. Hazel chewing on one end of a video game controller. Hazel at the beach, Hazel in the water, Hazel, Hazel, Hazel.

Only now do I realize what an incredible gift Mac has given me. It really is like I haven’t missed a single moment of my daughter’s life. Because her mother captured it all.

If I didn’t already know how much she loves me, I would know now. She was always hoping… Just like I was always hoping, all these years. I gave up at some point, but Mac didn’t. The last entry, a video, is from yesterday. Hazel, mushy peas smeared around her mouth, is having a discussion with Carey. I love her squeaky voice, her laugh. God, I love everything about her.

How can I make up for this? I have no idea. I can only keep showing her, for the rest of my life, how much I love her. How happy she makes me.

I go back through and reread things again and again. Luckily, there are messages from Carey to make me laugh through my tears.

Fuck, what would I do without my little brother?

Mac, Hazel, and Carey are my family. They have shown me what family really means. Sure, I still think about my mom sometimes, but she’s made her choice. And Dad?

I always looked up to him, always respected him, thought he was a good dad. Until he suddenly wasn’t. I wonder how he managed the transition from best to worst dad in the world. Was it me? Is it my fault?

Now, all I feel for him is revulsion. What he did to Mac, the way he talked about Hazel, what he did to me… I hope I’ll never be like that. I hope I don’t give Hazel the impression that I’ll only love her as long as she does what I want.

I make an oath to myself in that moment that I will always support her. No matter what. She gets to live her own life. She gets to be the captain of her story. Only her. I couldn’t stand it if she thought, even for a day, that she’s not good enough for me, that I don’t love her, that I’m not proud of her.

She’s making it difficult for me…What kind of a woman is she? Sacrificing her own happiness for the happiness of her daughter. I realize there’s only one word for somebody like that. Mother.

A little wistfully, I remember my own. She used to be so great. And then? Then her priorities got warped. Maybe I should call her. Get in touch somehow. After all, she’s my mom.

Not for the first time, I wonder why it was relatively easy for me to shut her out of my life. Why did Carey struggle with it for so long while I didn’t really have a problem with it? I mean, it bothered me, sure, but other things got to me way more. Mac, for instance.

Why did I never want to talk about my mom in all my therapy sessions? Only about Mac, Mac, Mac…

I have no idea.

I grab the phone from my bedside table. It’s late. She won’t be up, but I really want to hear her voice. Mac’s voice.

I let it ring, and finally, I hear her sleepy voice. “Hunter? What’s up?”

“Thank you, baby. Thank you for this incredible gift.”

I can hear the smile in her voice. “Our daughter is fantastic.”

“You’re fantastic, Mac. You. God, I’m so sorry.”

“About what?”

“That I didn’t give you a chance to explain things to me. I’m so incredibly sorry. I’m such a fucking idiot.”

“We both made mistakes. But the main thing is that we’re not going to make any more. At least not such fatal ones. Just minor crises for us from now on, okay?”

I have to smile. “Only minor crises, no major catastrophes.”

“Exactly.”

“I love you, Mac.”

“I love you, too, Hunt. So much!”

“Mac… My Mac…”

She sighs quietly. “Yes…”

“Our story has seen more downs than ups so far, but… Fuck, after my heart broke so many times…we’ve finally ended up here. And I can’t be mad about that.”

She scoffs. “I can.”

I laugh quietly. “Of course, I would have preferred a little less drama myself. But if I’d known that’s what it would take to end up here, I’d do it all over again.”

“With less heartache.”

“A little.”

“And definitely more singing.”

That makes me laugh again. “Have you been practicing?”

“Hello? Singing has always been my superpower.”

“Chasing away demons with your terrible singing voice?”

“No! Making people around me happy with my melodious voice.”

“You make me happy with your mouth, but not with your voice.”

She laughs. “What if I added some humming?”

“Mmm. Touché. That might be good.”

“Can’t wait to see you.”

“Same here, babe. I love you.”

She’s happy. There’s no doubt about that. “I can’t wait to be your wife.”

Fuck. My girl knows exactly what to say to turn me to mush in her hands.

“I can’t wait to be your husband.”