Page 39 of Not Because You Loved Me

I turned around, and the breath completely left my lungs. Tears immediately brimmed my eyes, burning hot behind my eyelids.

Maya was wearing a custom, miniature Summit City Kodiak’s hockey jersey with PRESCOTT and the number 1 stitched across the back. Layered underneath the jersey was a fluffy, bright pink tulle tutu, and matching little white sneakers on her feet. Her hazel eyes were bright and curious, identical to her mother's, and she had a wide, two-toothed smile plastered across her face.

It was the exact outfit, the exact image, I had pictured in my head years ago during those dark, confusing months.

Kat stopped a few feet away, her soft hazel eyes taking in my tear-filled gaze. She knew.

Over the years, on quiet nights when we lay wrapped in each other's arms in our bed upstairs, Kat would ask me to tell her about the family I had envisioned. She had listened to every detail of the child I had grieved, gently helping me turn those memories into our real, shared future.

Kat stepped closer, resting her free hand against my chest, right over my hammering heart.

"She wanted to dress up for her dad," Kat whispered, her voice laced with affection.

I reached out, wrapping my arm around Kat’s waist and pulling her and Maya tight against me. I leaned down, burying my face in the soft crook of Maya’s neck, making her let out a high-pitched, delighted giggle, before kissing Kat deeply on the lips.

"Thank you," I murmured against Kat’s mouth, as I looked between my wife and my daughter. "Thank you for giving me another chance, Kat. Thank you for our life."

Kat smiled, reaching up to wipe a stray tear from my cheek with her thumb.

"This is the only life I want to live, Prescott," she whispered softly. "Now come on... let's go give our daughter some birthday cake."

Holding my wife’s hand and our daughter snuggled into her side, I walked out into the warm afternoon sunshine, my heart full, grounded, and completely home