Love matters.
The court granted Darius structured visitation.
Not immediate custody.
He hated me for that.
Maybe part of him still does.
I also requested visitation with Leah.
Slowly.
Carefully.
With therapists involved.
At first, she called me Maya.
That was fine.
I never asked her to call me anything else.
We baked cookies.
Visited museums.
Once, she fell asleep against my shoulder during a movie.
I sat perfectly still for forty-five minutes because I was terrified moving would wake her.
When she finally opened her eyes, she looked embarrassed.
“Sorry.”
“For what?”
“I drooled.”
I laughed.
“So does Caleb.”
“Really?”
“Like a Saint Bernard.”
From the hallway, Caleb shouted, “I HEARD THAT.”
Leah laughed so hard she fell sideways.
It was the first time the three of us felt like something resembling family.
Not traditional.
Not simple.
But real.
Darius and I divorced eleven months after the flight.
He asked me once whether there was any possibility of saving our marriage.
