"The police?" There's no judgment in her tone. It's a simple question.
"I didn’t know what to do. I knew that I needed to make sure she was all right, so I called 911."
She moves slightly, closer to me, although her hands remain stiff in her lap. "What happened then?"
It's a blur, but it's not. I was floating on something back then. It was fear and joy. Hope and disbelief. "I demanded a DNA test and that I be allowed to take her back home with me."
"Were you able to?" she asks, running her hands over her knees. "Did they let you take her home?"
"My lawyer fought hard, but yes." I sigh. "There were stipulations including my sister and her husband agreeing to become May's temporary guardians. They'd adopted a boy a few months before so the court saw that as a plus. The three of them needed to move in with me temporarily, but their presence guaranteed May could stay."
"That's why you moved to another apartment," she breathes. "You needed the room."
"I negotiated a rental agreement the day May was released from the hospital and the nursery was fully equipped within hours. I bought the place a week later."
"She was in the hospital?"
"A precaution," I explain. "There was no record of her birth. We had no idea if there were complications, but thankfully she was fine. A bit premature, but fine."
"When did you know for certain that she was your daughter?" The first sign of a smile tugs at the corners of her mouth.
"The first time I held her." I look directly into her eyes. "In that lobby, I picked that baby up and looked down at her and I knew. I knew she was mine."
***
I asked for a glass of water to chase down the lump in my throat. It did little good. It was worth it, though. Ellie sat closer to me when she brought me the glass. So close that I can reach out to touch the bare skin of her legs. I haven't, but the temptation is there.
"What happened today?" Her eyes catch mine. I see her genuine concern. It was there when I left my office in a mad rush earlier and it was still there when she opened her apartment door to let me in. "Is she all right?"
Yes.
No.
She's perfect except for her shattered heart.
"She'll be fine." I lean back into the couch. "May's dog died a few weeks ago. It was her first loss. She's having a difficult time adjusting."
"Losing a pet can be very hard." Her lips turn down until she's frowning. Her brows pinch together. "I had a dog once. I remember how deeply I mourned that loss."
Kip had a dog; a feisty little Yorkie mix. She'd give it some of the food I would bring her, making it sit at attention before she'd pull off her mitten and feed it from her hand.
"What kind of dog was it?" I hone in on the opportunity to connect Ellie to Kip.
"A sweet one." She segues effortlessly into her next question. "What kind of dog did May have?"
"A beagle. Old and crotchety but she loved that fool with everything she has."
"Was it your dog before May arrived?" Her eyes brighten.
"What do you think?" I relax, resting my arm on the back of the couch.
Her brows shoot up with the question. She cradles her chin in her hand, studying my face carefully. "I think not. You don't seem like the kind of man who would have a dog unless his little girl wanted one."
"You're right," I say slowly as I lean closer to her. "She wanted to adopt a dog, so we went to the shelter and Barney gave her those old doggy eyes and she fell in love."
"You'd give her the moon if she asked, wouldn't you?" Her mouth curves into a soft smile.
"I'd hold her up and let her take it from the sky." I would. I can give my daughter everything she wants, but I can't give her one single detail about her mother.
Chapter 30
Ellie
"I'm such an idiot," I mumble to myself while he talks on the phone. He doesn't race off to another room to make the call. He does it right in front of me. I like it. I like hearing him asking a woman named Tilde how May is. This is his life, and he's let me inside.
He ends the call with a brief reminder to Tilde to call him if May wakes up. It's the third time he's told her that. "That was one of May's nannies. Now, explain the idiot comment, Ellie."
I wish I could. It's not about one thing, but I'm not going to tell him that. I'll just go with the obvious because dammit I should have put the clues together and realized that he didn't live in that apartment he took me to last night. "When we were in the office of your fake apartment, I knew something was up."
"That apartment isn't fake." He sits next to me again. He'd risen to his feet when he called Tilde, but he hadn't walked but a few inches from the couch. "It's real."
"You know what I mean," I say flustered. "It's not where you live."
"I own it. Many of the things I hold dear are still there."