Mr. Johnson handed me a card with a Los Angeles address and a handwritten number. I nodded and closed my fingers around it. My grip was tighter than it needed to be.
Four days passed before
I picked up the phone.
I stared at the number longer than it should have, my thumb hovering above the call icon. I didn’t know what I was going to say. I didn’t even know what I wanted to hear, but I pressed it anyway.
« Hello? » Her voice was cautious and clipped at the edges.
« Hi. Is this Lila? »
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« Yes, who’s this? » she asked. I imagined a young woman frowning as she tried to place my voice.
« My name is James.
I… I knew your mother, Claire. »
There was a pause, long enough that I thought she might hang up.
« She passed away last week, » I added, my voice softer now. « She left something for you. And… I think I’m your father. »
There was another pause, and I felt my heart hurt in this one. Here I was, just throwing bombs at this child like she deserved them. She didn’t, not at all.
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« She passed away last week… »
« I don’t know for certain, » I added quickly. « She had you before we were married. But if I look closely at the timeline… it’s possible that we’d just met. We weren’t together then. Not really. We’d probably hung out a few times only. »
I sighed deeply. I was grasping at straws, I knew that. I wanted to believe that I was connected to Lila, because… Claire had been.
« Claire told me that she needed space. We didn’t speak for a while after that. I’m not saying that I am your biological father, Lila. But I do know that you’re a part of my wife, and I’d love to get to know you. »
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« But you found each other again? »
Her voice was soft and cautious.
« Two years later, » I said, nodding even though she couldn’t see me. « And we stayed together. »
« Where? » she asked, her tone flattening again. « Where would you like to meet? »
We met in a small café a week later. I got there early and sat near the window, my hands restless on the ceramic mug in front of me. I didn’t know what I expected — a guarded young woman with a closed-off stare?
As she walked in,
