by S. L. Finlay
"Always?" My daughters asked, obviously having enjoyed her time with her father.
"Always." He told her before shutting off her light and closing the door.
I was standing behind him, and when he turned around, his face somber, I could see his pain. It was visible, even to me, even in that moment. There wasn't anything I could really do. I knew Zac enough to know that he wouldn't want me to see this, and wanted to give him the space to leave the house if he wanted to.
But then he asked me something that surprised me, "can I stay here tonight?"
Of course, there was only one answer. "Yes." I told him as Zac moved close to me, wrapping his arms around me and planting what was the sweetest kiss on my lips. I had not been kissed by a man in six years, let alone a kiss like this. The sweetness of the kiss made tears well up in my eyes.
"Can I stay always?" He asked after our kiss that stopped my heart.
Answering again with the only answer I could possibly give the man I loved, the man I had always loved, I told him, "Yes."
And that was it. We were back together.
CHAPTER TWENTY
It was a good six months before I would tell my daughter the truth about my 'new boyfriend'. Not because I wanted to be cruel to either of them, but because I loved both of them and wanted to make sure that she loved him for who he was before she found out who she was to him.
It didn't take six months for her to love him at all, it actually didn't take her six months to start calling him 'dad' as if she had figured it all out on her own. But it took six months for me to be ready, and, because he was a good man, Zac was willing to wait until I - his stubborn and ever annoying partner - was ready.
In the time it took me to be ready, Zac and I worked through many of the problems we had had. It wasn't always easy to iron out the kinks in our relationship, and there was frequently tears in both our eyes as we worked - and fought - our way through things, but we did work through them.
Because Charlotte and I lived so far from base, usually Zac would spend his weekends with us at the start until he had the military agree to move him to another base and agree to let him live with me. Because I had been his partner before on their paper work, and because we had a child together, we could live off base in the house I had bought years ago. Zac would get used to the odd things I did around the house and I would learn when to compromise to let him in. Something that wasn't easy after I had been independent for so long. I stopped being as reactive as I had always been and I let him have his space when he needed it. He let me have my space, too. We slowly grew together, and the growth made us stronger as a couple.
When it was time to tell our little girl that she was our shared daughter, I told Zac that she wasn't allowed to call him Daddy, because he would always be my Daddy. Zac didn't mind. He told me he was happy with being called dad, which she had already been calling him anyway.
Of course, telling our daughter wasn't easy, but we made it easy by taking her to her favorite pizza place - the same pizza place where we had had our first meal together as a family - and together we are a wonderful meal and told her that actually, her dad really was her dad.
Far from being upset at not being told, my daughter was happy that he was her dad, and that he wasn't going to stop being her dad, ever. There was no way he could, we both told her. That's not how it worked.
"But how can I have no dad then have a dad?" She asked me after a while.
I shook my head and didn't meet her eyes, "because ma made a mistake when you were in her tummy. I'm sorry for it. I will always be sorry."
Reaching out and grabbing my hand, my daughter told me, "don't be sorry. It's okay. We're all together now." He words made tears spring to my eyes.
It was more than a child trying to comfort her mother, it was the truth. We were together. Her father and I. Her and her parents. Things had worked out well in the end, even if it hadn't been fantastic the whole way through.
Sometimes even the oddest stories have the happiest endings, I thought as I tore a piece of garlic bread in two.
Later that evening, when our daughter had gone to bed, Zac was down on one knee again. But this time it was in our garden, not at a beach. This time the words he said to me were more mature, more genuine than two lovers day dreaming about what marriage and children would be like. We already had the later, and having the former wouldn't make that much of a difference to our lives. It was just a piece of paper to acknowledge our relationship, and perhaps an excuse to celebrate a little more and make a little brother or sister for Charlotte.
Of course I accepted, and, when Daddy stood up to accept his kiss and wrap his arms around me, I couldn't see any other way that this could have worked out, or anyone else I would rather be with.
I had made my mistakes, and so had he. We were not perfect people, but together, things were perfect. As he held me int he garden, his bride-to-be, I felt that sense of wholeness I'm always told couples feel. This was real, and it was mine.
Daddy's kisses were amazing, and that evening, we may have tried our luck at creating a second Charlotte.
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