It surprises me how independent Maddie is. The kid effortlessly amuses herself for hours while I meet with my tech team. There’s just no way around it. My company is going to the wall and damn me, if I don’t do everything in my power to avert that.

We have dinner together, which is quite frankly, the highlight of my day from hell, but every time my phone rings, and I have to take the call, she just quietly continues with her meal while I’m on the phone. I don’t know whether to be impressed, or saddened by her maturity. When we get back to the office, I offer to read her a bedtime story.

“Daddy, I can read, you know,” she explains with world-weary patience.

“I know you can, but sometimes, it’s really nice when someone else reads for you.”

She thinks about it. “Okay,” she says, grinning up at me.

I smile back at her, but it troubles me that she has missed out on so much. How could I have been so caught up with work that I know almost nothing about her upbringing? I’m going to have to buy more clothes for her too. Her suitcase is full of designer party dresses. Not a single pair of jeans in sight. It’s enough to make me wonder what my daughter’s life has been like for the last two years.

You could’ve found out for yourself.

The nagging, knowing voice in the back of my head isn’t going to lie down and let me get away with anything today. It is true I could’ve pushed to be a bigger part of her life. Even if I didn’t have shared custody—a blow that took a long time to get over—I should’ve pressed for more visitation. A few times a year, plus a little time around her birthday and the holidays wasn’t nearly enough.

Obviously, since I know so little about her life.

We go back to my office that now looks like a giant playroom. Erica found a pink princess castle tent with turrets. She also bought a blow-up dragon, and a whole load of toys and books.

Maddie changes into her pajamas and brushes her teeth in my bathroom. She asks me to plait her hair for her.

“Why?” I ask.

“Because it will be a horrendous mess when I wake up and Mommy says I have to have my hair in braids. Christina always makes two braids.”

“Right,” I say taking the brush from her hand. I try very hard, but braiding hair is more complicated than it seems at first.

“Are you finished, Daddy?” she asks for the tenth time.

“Never mind. We’ll deal with the mess in the morning,” I say, swallowing my frustration. I will have to get someone to teach me. “Come on. Let’s get you to bed. What story do you want?”

“Can we read The Little Mermaid please?” she asks politely, as she settles into the sweet smelling, freshly laundered blankets.

I’ll have to remember to give Erica a bonus this month. She went out of her way to make sure that my sick little girl has everything she could possibly need. “Of course.” I climb into the tent and using a flashlight, I read her book to her.

Poor child, she is so exhausted she falls asleep halfway through the book.

Gently, I kiss her spotty cheek and holding my breath, I carefully slide out of her tent.

I stand and look down at her. Something tugs at my heart. My child is asleep on my office floor, instead of in a bedroom in my apartment. That’s where she should be, permanently. And will be. As soon as I sort out my business. She deserves better than this, damn it.

I have to get my mind back on work. Two weeks. Two weeks until the conference launch. The thought of it makes me feel sick. Though, that could be the stress. Or just plain ole seething rage. It consumes me every time I remember Weissman’s arrogant, taunting smile as he passed me by last night.  

I run my hands through my hair as the adrenaline in my blood spikes. I can’t let it take over again. I’ll end up collapsing and my business—not to mention the little girl in the next room—need me badly. He thinks he’s got me. Well, he hasn’t. I gear myself up for a long, long night. What I need is an energy drink. I tiptoe out of my office to get one of the cans Erica stocks the fridge with.

My hand lingers on the doorknob as I turn back to look at the tent. I’m only going to be seconds. But what if she wakes up and finds herself in a strange place? She could go into panic mode and I wouldn’t hear her. All the walls are soundproof. With good reason. Before today, my ultimate priority in this place was confidentiality. A lot of good that did me. I leave the door open, grab a can, and go back into my office.

All is quiet in the tent.

I collapse into the chair behind my desk and realize I’m sitting on my suit jacket, but I can’t bring myself to care. My eyes itch with fatigue and I don’t think I’ve ever felt this drained. Not when I ran in that half-marathon at school, not when I was working overnight to put myself through college. Not even when Maddie was a newborn and she used to scream all night with colic and nothing worked, not gripe water, not anything, except being swaddled tightly in a blanket and bounced on my knees for hours. Every time I thought she’d finally fallen asleep and tried to put her down, the ear-piercing screaming would begin all over again.

Of course, Regina always claimed she suffered from postpartum depression and needed her sleep, so it was all up to me. For nearly five months, I did the night shift. Even then, when I would stumble into work with eyes that burned out from exhaustion and lack of sleep, I didn’t feel nearly as wrung-out as I do now.

My head is killing me. No wonder I can’t focus on anything. I throw a handful of the aspirin down my throat and take a gulp of my drink. That should help. I close my eyes and lean back for a few minutes. There is a quiet sigh from the tent and my eyes snap open.

She is sucking her thumb in her sleep.

I remember her unhappy little face this morning, when her mother abandoned her in my waiting room. How many times has she been passed around over the two years during the time she’s been in her mother’s care? How many people have actually truly cared for her?

Regina’s high and mighty parents? No fucking way. They wouldn’t know what care meant if it sat up and bit them in the ass. They hated me. Even though I’d already made a name for myself in the tech world by the time I married Regina, and they couldn’t quite get away with accusing me of marrying their daughter for their money, they never stopped dropping sly hints.

Maddie’s days of being passed around are over.

I’ll hire a nanny, but I don’t plan on palming my kid off on anybody else. She deserves a happy life. The sort of parent who would hang her artwork on the fridge and attend all of her little school shows. Do schools still do that? I wouldn’t know. I’ve never attended anything, since Regina cut me off from all knowledge of my child’s life.

Still not her fault. I could’ve pushed back, if I wasn’t so fucking focused on my business. Well, I’ve got my priorities in order now.

I peer into the dim of the tent entrance. Her curly hair is like a brown cloud around her head. At least the itching has stopped now that she’s asleep. She’s like a little angel, so peaceful. My heart has never felt so full. She needs a father with his shit together. I have to be that father.

“I’m going to do my best for you,” I whisper, still watching her sleep. “I just don’t know what that looks like yet. I need to figure it out. So you might have to be a little patient with me while I get it together. I’ve been alone for a long time. I need to adjust.”

I turn and catch my reflection in the glass windows. It’s nearly ten o’clock and the glass is a mirror. There I am…a guy who looks like he’s been dragged backwards through a thorn bush. I barely recognize myself. My hair is in complete disarray from running my hands through it all day, my shirt is rumpled from sliding around in the tent, and my collar is wide open. Only the devil knows where I left my tie.

I look away. I need to get my head on straight. Prioritize. Take advantage of the fact that Maddie is asleep and get some work done. I still have hours of work to do.

I sure as hell can’t let the night escape me. I’m fighting for all I’ve worked for now. I open my emails and skim the subject lines, my eyes burning.