Out in the hallway, we’re greeted by an irate head nurse.

“How dare you?” she bellows. “We are responsible for our patients’ safety! He clearly asked not to see you!”

Hazel’s eyes fill with tears, and she hugs my leg. I square my shoulders. “Go ahead and ask him about it again,” I tell the nurse.

“Mommy?” Hazel says quietly.

“It’s all right, sweetie. Let’s—”

“You are leaving our premises immediately, or I’ll call the police!” the nurse interrupts. She’s right. I only took his daughter to him, but I could have been an attacker as well. It was that easy to get to him.

“We’re leaving,” I say. “But please ask him whether he wants to keep me on his blacklist.”

Carey comes out of the therapy room just then. “Are you all right?” He puts an arm around my shoulders.

“We’re fine,” I say.

“Oh no, you aren’t!” the nurse splutters. “You’ve broken hospital rules, and you will regret it!”

“She took his daughter to see him,” Carey snarls at her.

“Carey,” I say warningly, placing a hand against his chest. He knows I don’t always want him getting involved.

“I don’t care!” the nurse yells. “We have rules here, and you can’t just break them at your leisure!”

“Okay, you’re right,” I say politely. “Please ask Hunter whether he wants to see me from now on.”

“At this point, it doesn’t matter what he wants,” she snaps, her hands on her hips. “You’re a risk to our rules. You’re not allowed into the building anymore.”

Hazel starts crying, her face against my leg. She doesn’t understand what’s going on, but the woman’s aggressive tone is upsetting her. Nobody ever talks to her like this. Ever.

I stroke her head. “It’s all right, Hazel. Don’t cry.”

“You can’t do this!” Carey barks at the nurse. “My brother needs them both in order to get healthy.”

“You should have thought of that before you went charging in there!” the nurse sputters. “Our rules are not there to be broken, no matter what you may think! We deal with life and death here!”

“I’m sorry,” I say as calmly as I can, which is not easy when a screaming old hag is making your daughter cry. “I’m leaving now, but I would be grateful if you could reconsider whether you really want to put Hunter’s recovery at risk just to teach me a lesson. Please.” I pick up Hazel and tug at Carey’s hand.

Once we’re outside, he snorts angrily. “They can’t do that!”

“Yes, they can,” I say. “But every crisis is an opportunity.”

“What?”

I nod. “How do you think Hunter reacted to Hazel?”

Carey shrugs. “Positively.”

“I think so, too. So maybe he’ll be willing to come back to San Diego once he hears we’re no longer allowed to come see him here.”

Carey looks at me. “You’re a sly fox.”

I shrug. “I want him home.”

“Me too.”

I hold my hand up, and Carey smiles as he gives me a high five.

“Ice tream!” demands the two-year-old in my arms.

“Okay, okay.”

We drive to a nearby ice cream parlor, but my mind never strays from the hospital. When we’re seated, ice cream sundaes in hand, I say, “He wasn’t looking good.”

“Yes, but his face lit up when he saw Hazel,” Carey says. “She’s his reason now. His reason to live.”

I look out the window, unable to hide my sadness. The fact that Hunter wants our daughter doesn’t mean he wants me too. We’ve got a foot in the door, but that’s it. Just because I want a happy ending together doesn’t mean Hunter does, too. Maybe, in his mind, too much has happened. Maybe he’s no longer the man he was before his deployment to Afghanistan. He probably isn’t, actually. Experiences like that change you, change your view on things. Maybe he’s found a different path for himself.

But I’m still glad he so obviously wants Hazel. I could see his infatuation, his determination to know her. It was so beautiful to witness. To be able to introduce my daughter to her father. That moment will always be in my top five favorite moments. So far, the list is only Hazel’s birth and that one night with Hunter. Technically speaking, I guess it’s a top three list, but I’m hoping to add more great moments with Hunter and Hazel…and maybe more children.

Once again, I’m a hundred steps ahead of my reality.

“Mac,” Carey says gently. “I don’t think you’re not a reason for him.” We’ve lived together too long. He can obviously read my mind. “He just thought he couldn’t have you anymore.”

“Should we be worried he’ll try again?” I ask quietly while Hazel smears ice cream across the table and herself.

“No, Mac,” Carey says. “No. I don’t think he really wanted to kill himself. It was a cry for help.”

“Regardless, it’s not going to be easy.”

He shrugs. “No, but who ever said the good things in life were easy to get?”

“Mommy?” Hazel pipes up. “Daddy lite ice tream?”

“Everybody likes ice cream.”

She smiles. “Hazel happy.”

“Why?”

“Because Hazel has Daddy.”

I stroke her head. “I’m happy you have Daddy, too.”

She nods contentedly, scraping the bottom of her sundae dish with her little plastic spoon.

Carey looks at me. “I’ll go see him tomorrow.”

“Okay. But I don’t think we’ll get to see him while he’s under observation.”

Carey grins. “We’ll see.”

I roll my eyes. “Which one are you going to flirt with?”

“The blond one who couldn’t keep you out today,” he says without hesitation.

“Interesting choice.”

“I think so, too.”

“Don’t you think you might be a little overconfident here?”

“Hey, doll, you know me. Nobody can resist my charm.”

I shake my head with a smile. “Arrogant bastard.”

“Bastard!” my little parrot croaks, and Carey laughs his ass off.

* * *

The next day, we join Carey in the car, just in case Hunter was able to put us on his visitors’ list after all.

“I’m sorry,” says the blond nurse Carey’s gunning for. “You need to leave, or I’ll have to call security.”

I nod and turn to Carey. “You take Hazel.”

“Really? What about the plan? If he thinks you two can’t visit…”

I shake my head. “No. I want him to know he can see her whenever he wants, even if he and I are going to have a difficult relationship—or no relationship at all.”

Carey nods and picks up Hazel. “Okay. Let’s go see Daddy.”

Hazel claps her hands and cheers, and then they wave as they head through the double doors and down the hall. I feel horrible letting them go while I leave the hospital on my own.