“And I made you carry something no brother should’ve been asked to carry.”
Livia wiped her cheek with Rose’s blanket.
“If we try this,” she said carefully, “Mitchell stays my husband. Natalie stays Rose’s grandmother. Liam isn’t punished. And you don’t get to be cruel to Mitchell just because you’re hurt.”
I nodded.
“Yes.”
“And you don’t get to tell this story like I broke your heart for no reason.”
I nodded again.
“I won’t.”
Rose fussed softly.
For the first time in my life, I did not reach out like love gave me permission.
I asked.
“May I meet her?”
Livia looked at Mitchell.
He nodded, but she still took another second before stepping forward.
“Her name is Rose,” she said.
Then she placed my granddaughter in my arms.
I looked down at her soft cheeks and tiny mouth.
“Hi, Rose,” I whispered. “I’m Camila. Your grandma.”
Livia’s mouth trembled when she heard that.
A week later, I called her.
“Would dinner here feel okay?” I asked. “You can say no.”
“Who’s coming?”
“Whoever you want.”
She came with Mitchell, Rose, and Natalie.
Liam sat beside her.
I asked Natalie if she wanted coffee.
John cooked because I knew I would try to control every plate.
When Rose fussed, I stopped myself before reaching.
“Livia,” I asked, “do you want me to take her, or would you rather Mitchell?”
She looked at me for a long moment.
Then she smiled a little.
“You can take her, Mom.”
Before she left, she hugged me.
It was careful.
But it was real.
I had spent almost a year searching for my daughter, convinced someone had taken her from me.
