“Mom kept saying you’d get over it. She said you always did.”
I stared at my desk.
There were photographs from Greece on my computer.
A little white church.
The water.
Daniel smiling with a paper cup of coffee in his hand.
Khloe spoke again.
“I knew you’d said no to the reveal.”
I waited.
“I thought if we did it anyway, you’d be annoyed for a while, but then you’d forgive us.”
“Why?”
She sniffled.
“Because you always have.”
I looked out the window.
The words were painfully familiar.
Finally, I said, “Khloe, I’m not going to pretend that what happened was okay.”
“I know.”
“And I won’t pay for a trip, your rent, or other expenses because you want me to prove I love you.”
She cried quietly.
“I wasn’t calling to ask for money.”
“Then what do you want?”
She hesitated.
“I wanted to ask whether you still want to be part of the baby’s life.”
My throat tightened.
I thought about the little yellow blanket I’d bought months earlier.
It was still folded in a drawer.
“Yes,” I said. “I’d like to be her aunt.”
Khloe exhaled.
“But that doesn’t mean everything between us is fixed.”
“I know.”
