Chapter 10 - SOPHIA ASKED IF I COULD BE HER DAD, AND I GAVE HER THE ONLY ANSWER THAT DIDN’T STEAL SOMEONE ELSE’S PLACE
Sophia was five when she asked.
We were sitting on the kitchen floor.
Why?
Because she was building a castle from cardboard and apparently chairs interfered with architecture.
Elena was upstairs.
I had been trusted alone with Sophia for exactly forty-three minutes.
I knew because I checked the clock twice.
She placed a cardboard tower beside my knee.
“Hold.”
I held.
Tape.
Crayon.
Glue.
My suit was ruined.
Then Sophia asked:
“Are you my dad?”
My hand stopped.
No warning.
No transition.
Children remain terrifying.
I looked at her.
“No.”
She frowned.
“You do dad things.”
My throat tightened.
“What are dad things?”
“You pick me up.”
“Sometimes.”
“You come to school.”
“Yes.”
“You know I don’t like peas.”
“Critical.”
“You fix my bike.”
“Marco fixed your bike.”
“You watched.”
Fair.
She looked at me.
“Daddy is in heaven.”
Elena had never lied about death.
Good.
“Yes.”
“Can I have two dads?”
My chest hurt.
I thought of Miguel’s video.
Do not make me innocent for Sophia.
Let her be angry.
Tell truth.
I put down the cardboard.
“You have one dad named Miguel.”
She listened.
“He loved you.”
“Yes.”
“He gave you Miss Rose.”
She smiled.
“Yes.”
“He died.”
Her smile faded.
“Yes.”
I continued:
“I love you too.”
Her eyes widened.
First time I had said it directly?
Maybe.
“Yes.”
“But I don’t get to replace your dad.”
“Why?”
“Because loving you doesn’t erase him.”
She thought.
“What are you then?”
There was no title.
No mafia code.
No business structure.
Nothing my father taught applied.
“I’m Dominic.”
Sophia looked disappointed.
“That’s boring.”
I laughed.
“What would you prefer?”
She thought seriously.
“Bonus dad.”
I nearly choked.
“Where did you hear that?”
“Lily at school.”
Of course.
“Her mom has one.”
“I see.”
“Can you be bonus dad?”
My eyes burned.
“That is something you and your mom decide.”
Sophia nodded.
“Okay.”
Then returned to glue.
Apparently my emotional collapse was not relevant to construction.
Elena came downstairs later.
Sophia immediately announced:
“Dominic said he loves me.”
I froze.
Elena looked at me.
I wanted the floor to open.
Sophia continued:
“And he can maybe be bonus dad if you say yes.”
Elena closed her eyes.
“Sophia.”
“What?”
“Go wash your hands.”
“But castle.”
“Hands.”
Sophia sighed like a divorced forty-year-old.
Then left.
Silence.
I stood.
“Elena.”
She looked at me.
“I did not initiate that conversation.”
“I know.”
“I told her Miguel is her father.”
“I know.”
“I said—”
“Dominic.”
“What?”
“Stop defending.”
I stopped.
She approached.
Her eyes were wet.
“What did she ask exactly?”
I told her.
All.
No editing.
Elena cried.
Quietly.
“She remembers less of Miguel every year.”
“I know.”
“That scares me.”
“I know.”
“I don’t want you becoming easier to remember because you’re here.”
That hurt.
Still fair.
“I can help keep him present.”
Her face changed.
“How?”
“Photos.”
“Stories.”
“His video when she’s older.”
“Visit his grave.”
“Say his name.”
I swallowed.
“I am not competing with a dead man.”
Elena cried harder.
“Good.”
Then she laughed through tears.
“There’s the word.”
I smiled.
She hugged me.
No hesitation.
I held her.
Later that month, the three of us went to Miguel’s grave.
First time for me.
Sophia brought roses.
Of course.
Elena stood between us.
She spoke aloud.
Not to be dramatic.
Because grief sometimes needs sound.
“Miguel.”
Her voice broke.
“I know now.”
Silence.
“I wish you told me.”
“I’m angry.”
“I love you.”
Sophia placed Miss Rose beside the stone for one minute.
Then took her back.
Important.
She needed the doll.
I stood several feet away.
Not my place.
Then Sophia called:
“Dominic.”
I approached.
She took my hand.
Placed it beside Elena’s.
Then:
“Family picture.”
My heart stopped.
Elena looked at her daughter.
Then at me.
We stood in front of Miguel’s grave while a stranger took one photograph.
I thought it would feel wrong.
It didn’t.
Because the stone was not excluded.
Miguel’s name appeared behind us.
Family did not have to be edited into one clean shape.
That night, Elena showed me the picture.
“What do you think?”
I stared.
Sophia smiling.
Elena crying.
Me looking terrified.
“Miguel’s name is visible.”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
She smiled.
“You’re learning.”
Then:
“Sophia can call you bonus dad if she wants.”
I stopped breathing.
“Are you sure?”
“No.”
Good answer.
“But I think I’m more afraid of losing Miguel than Sophia is.”
Elena looked at the photograph.
“She knows who her father is.”
“She also knows who shows up now.”
My eyes filled.
“Thank you.”
“Do not make it weird.”
“Impossible.”
She kissed me.
Three weeks later, Sophia walked into breakfast.
“Morning, Bonus Dad.”
Marco dropped a coffee cup.
Niko laughed so hard his side hurt.
I sat frozen.
Sophia climbed into her chair.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
She pointed at my tie.
“Crooked.”
I adjusted it.
“Better?”
She nodded.
“Better.”
May you like
Some things never changed.
Thank God.
